#AT LEAST GRAB THE FUCKING BAGS THE LOVELY CASHIER SCANNED AND BAGGED FOR YOU

[king-carnivore]

If you're someone who is physically capable of bagging your own grocery items (esp when you have 20+ items on the belt) but just... Don't??

Fuck you.

[deltaromeo3]

ɴᴏ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ #2 —Daniel Ricciardo

Pairing: daniel ricciardo x childhoodbestfriend!reader

Summary: Finally returning home after a few years, she reunites with her long time bestfriend; the all too famous Formula 1 driver, Daniel Ricciardo. Will things rehash between them or will it take a turn for the worst?

previous chapters here: #1 | #3

sidenote: im open for requests!

“Y/N?!” You turned your head towards the direction of the voice.

“Ella?!” You engulfed her in a hug.

“Oh my god I haven’t seen you in years! What are you doing back in this shit place?”

You chuckled at her remark; not because it was funny, but because it was true.

“Ma’s birthday. She says she invited your family over. I’m guessing you’ll be there too yeah?”

Ella nods. “Mm-hmm.” She pauses and looks at you suspiciously, like you being here was too good to be true. “You never come back home for jack shit so this must be special.”

You laughed, “That’s true but this time she literally begged me to come home, even offering to pay for my ticket. You’ve any idea why she insists she needs me to be here?”

Ella shrugs. “Nah, I’m as clueless as you.”

“Of course." You accept the defeat, wondering why you even asked her in the first place.

Ella chuckles softly. "It was nice bumping into you but I've gotta go. Catch ya tomorrow?" She smiles.

You nodded, smiling back at her. “See ya."

Ella walks away and you enter the corner shop. You went straight for the snacks, picking out your favourites; sour cream and onion chips with a packet of tim-tams.

You went to the cashier, placing the snacks down on the counter. You looked behind towards the rack of cigarettes for a second, deciding if you’ll be needing them or not. You only smoked when you were stressed and oh man... the level just keeps on increasing.

Fuck it.

“Oh can I please have one Marlboro Ice Blast as well? Thanks.”

You didn’t forget to grab yourself a lighter while you’re at it. The cashier retrieves the cigarette, scanning it along with your other items. You check out and leave the store, making your way to the bench across the store and taking a seat.

You placed the cigarette between your lips, lighting it up. One puff… two.. three…

“Enjoying yourself?”

“What the fuck!” Startled at the sudden voice, you turned behind to be met with your sister, who was laughing.

“How did you know where to find me?”

“You always head down here. What’s so special about this place anyways?”

-

2006.

“Oi Danny! Slow down, I’ve got short legs y'know!” You say, out of breathe from trying to catch up to him.

You hear him laugh. “Alright princess, I’ll slow down.”

“T-thank you,” You bend down, placing your hands on your knees, panting.

“Sheesh I didn’t know you were so out of shape,”

“Shut up Daniel. I’m not some go-kart… formula 2 driver… ugh, whatever it is that you are.”

He laughs again. Oh that laugh... If you could hear it everyday on repeat, you would.

“Whatever it is? Cmon now, i’ll make it to the big leagues and you know it,” He winks at you and all you can afford is to roll your eyes back.

“Yeah yeah…”

Daniel was leaving in a month's time and honestly, you didn't want him to go. You wanted him to stay or at least convince him to (but you knew he didn't need that much convincing if it comes to you). But you knew it was selfish so you kept quiet and said nothing.

“The usual?” He asks as he places his bag down on the bench.

“Yeah,”

“Give me five minutes, and don’t you run away!”

You chuckled. “Now why would I do that? I love spending time with you.”

He smiles. “Of course you do. Anyone else would die just to be in your position right now.” He says, exaggerating the statement. He was so full of himself.

“Please don’t start.” You rolled your eyes. “And can you hurry please? I’m having the munchies,”

He laughs yet again. “Yes maam,” He salutes to you before jogging off to the store.

You sat quietly on the bench, kicking your legs. Usually, it would’ve been Ella, Caleb, Daniel and you. But ever since Ella and Caleb were a thing, their presence slowly faded from the group and suddenly it was just you and Daniel… which you didn’t mind at all to be frank.

“Hi,” He graces you with his presence.

“Hi,” You replied as he takes a seat beside you.

“Blueberry slushy and… sour cream chips for you! Oh don’t worry, I got Ruffles this time, didn’t make the mistake of getting Lays like last time. Ooh! I also got you tim-tams just in case.”

Tim-tams. You smile. He remembers...

“Thank you Daniel.”

“Daniel? Oh no, what did I do wrong? Was it the chips? Im sorry I should’v-” He starts to ramble with a panicked look on his face.

You cut him off. “No no! You did nothing wrong. Just.. thank you yeah?”

You can see his eyebrows furrow, confused at your sudden attitude change.

“Are you okay?” He places his palm on your forehead, as if to check for a fever. You laugh at his antics.

“You’re being weird. And can you call me Danny like you always do? Sounds weird when you call me.. Daniel.”

“But that’s... your name?”

“Yeah but I like it when you call me Danny.”

You smile. “Okay, Danny.”

“That’s more like it.” He says, scooting in closer to you. “Now are we gonna share this slushy or what?!”

-

Present.

“No..nothing special about this place.” You took another puff of your cigarette.

“Okay.” She takes a seat next to you, but you knew she wasn't buying it.

“Are you gonna stay a little longer this time? You haven’t been home and I miss having you around.” Your sister asks.

“If theres a reason for me to stay then sure,” You confidently say because you knew you had no reason to stay apart from her, your dad and your friends. But that wasn't enough to make you stay, no, you needed more than that.

“Oh I’m sure I can find a reason for you to stay.” She smirks.

“Is that so?” You cock your eyebrows at her, surprised at her confidence.

“Mmhmm. Just you wait.” Your sister says, determined.

-

A/N: hehehe finally its out!! i hope you enjoyed it :)) thank you for the love on chapter 1! do let me know your input, feedback (good & bad) appreciated as always <3 let me know if you want to be tagged!

🏷️: @mysticalnightenthusiast @moonvr

[nvertheless]

the babysitters club — phone charm

826 words.

niki had waited by the entrance of the shopping center, scrolling through his phone and mentally prepared himself to hang out with y/n. he was excited but he felt his stomach fill with butterflies.

and right as he felt butterflies come into his stomach he saw y/n walking towards him. his eyes slowly widen to see her cause she looked really.. pretty.

“hi y/n!” niki said as she smiled at him. “hi niki, do you wanna go in now?” she said pointing to the entrance of the shopping center. he nodded as he opened the door for her to let her walk in first.

she walked in with him following behind her, “so where do you wanna go niki?” she asked him. he struggled his shoulders, “hm you can pick, i don’t really mind where we go anyways.”

he smiled at her as she looked around before pointing to a small shop that was near the entrance of the shopping center. “let’s go look in there then, it seems interesting.”

they both walked into a small shop that was filled with small gifts. a elderly lady had been at the cashier, she looked at the two teenagers who just walked in and warmly smiled at them.

niki had saw a pair of random sunglasses and put them on his face, “y/n how do i look?” y/n looked at him and started to laugh. “you look.. wonderful.” she said softly giggling.

niki blushed as he put the random pair of sunglasses down and started to look around more with y/n. her attention suddenly started to turn over to a phone charm.

“do you like it y/n?” niki asked, being curious. y/n nodded her head. “it looks pretty, maybe i’ll get it.” she paused for a moment before talking again. “let’s look around more.” she turned away from the phone charm as they started walking around the store more.

as they talked she suddenly was interrupted by her phone ringing, she looked at her phone before looking up at niki. “oh my mom is calling me, is it okay if i answer it really quick?” she said as niki nodded. she walked out of the store to speak to her mom on the phone.

niki looked around more, but he started thinking. “hm should i buy the phone charm for her?” he suddenly walked back to where the phone charm was at and took a look at it.

it had purple, pink, blue, yellow and light green flowers on it, it was small but cute. niki thought it matched y/n well, “ah fuck it im buying it for her.”

he grabbed the charm and walked to the cashier, who was the elderly lady from before. “hi! can i buy this?” niki asked politely as the old lady nodded her head and put it through the scan.

“is this for your girlfriend who walked away on the phone?” the elderly lady suddenly asked. ‘gi-gir-GIRLFRIEND??’ niki was shocked to say the least. “ah no she’s jus- just a friend, but yeah it’s for her.” he said stuttering. dumbass.

“ah no worries then, but i’m guessing you like her?” the old lady asked again. niki looked at y/n to see if she was distracted. he looked back to the old lady and nodded his head.

“well you should make your move on her before anyone else does it, she’s a very pretty girl and your a handsome boy, i think she will like you just the way you are.” the old lady smiled at him as niki felt his heart beat.

“ah thank you ma’am, i’ll try my best.” he said as the lady gave him the bag with the extra change. “you have a good day.” she softly smiled at him as he smiled back and walked out of the store.

she looked at the two teenagers before sighing to herself, “young love, so precious.”

niki walked to y/n who hung up on her mom and put her phone in her pocket. “oh you bought something?” he nodded as he gave her the bag. “it’s not for me though.. it’s for you but you should open it when you get home.” she smiled at him softly.

“ah really? thank you but you shouldn’t have...” “no it’s fine! i think you’ll like it anyways.” y/n felt her heart skip a beat as he smiled at her. “well let’s go look around more then.” she said as they started walking around the shopping center more.

throughout them talking, even though niki had known most stuff about her, there was more to y/n than just liking kids and being able to take care of them. she was just like any other normal high school student.

she liked music, hanging out with her friends, reading, watching shows, playing with puppies, there was so much to her more than just what people see on the surface, and niki was able to see all of it.

a/n: THEY ARE SO CUTE. i’m writing this and i’m jealous of them tbh </3

taglist (open!): @un-flirt @enhacolor @lovienikitty @certainyouthpeanut @yangrdn @nikipedia07 @acciomylove @alderiasamantha @markleepooh @enhasengene @myheartlikesu @prettysung

bolded means i can’t tag u :(

[hazzasgayvodka]

Panty Thief - Harry Styles

So this is kind of a trial run for this fic, I’m inclined to make this a series but I’m not sure how the response to it will be. I have lots of ideas for more parts to this but only if it’s what the people want haha. Here is my belated Valentine’s Day gift to all you lovelies I hope you enjoy this heavy daddy kink/dom harry fic I’ve been working on for ages!

p.s. everyone say thank you Nathan for giving me lots of smut inspiration this is literally based on him sorta 

pairing: daddy!harry x oc

warning: sexual content, smut, daddy kink/dom vibes so if you’re not here for that this is not for you

word count: 5k

In which Harry is a new student at Harley’s university and he seems to just keep popping up everywhere. The tension between them is palpable and she can’t get away from him, especially when he happens to knock on her door with a pair of her favorite red lace panties she left in the laundromat dangling from his finger. 

I roll my eyes as the lady in front of me in line takes out yet another handful of coupons from her purse at the checkout counter. The cashier looks almost as annoyed as I am, but still sporting a smile despite the absolute exasperation rampant in her eyes. She takes the handful of coupons and starts scanning them begrudgingly as the woman digs around in her purse for anymore and I hardly even notice my foot tapping as my eyes instinctively roll once again. I just came to get toilet roll, ice cream, and a bottle of prosecco and the universe decides today is the day coupon Karen ends up at the checkout line five minutes before I do.

“I like your hair.” A voice speaks up behind me.

I know they must be talking to me, I don’t believe any other boring college blonde in this line warrants a compliment like that but the bright purple curls I sport tend to elicit quite the reaction from bystanders, especially the uninteresting conservatives of Publix.

“How do you uh, get it that color?”

I finally turn my head over my shoulder to face the voice, a tall guy with tousled brown hair and quite the shit eating grin on his face. He’s obviously very pleased with himself finally getting me to turn around but I can’t be bothered to entertain this excited puppy of a man with more than a word.

“Dye.”

I’ve barely even gotten the word out of my mouth before I turn back to face the cashier with an uninterested eyeroll. He scoffs behind me, clearly not giving up that easily.

“Wow,” He chuckles, “At least you’re straightforward.”

I turn back around without thinking to face him once again, “Hair dye, idiot.”

“Oh, well I could have guessed that much.”

I turn away from him again just as coupon lady finally pushes her rattling cart towards the exit doors and the cashier gestures for me to come up to the checkout. I drop my basket on the conveyor belt with a thud and she rings it up quickly, sensing my impatience and clearly wanting to get me the hell out of here as quickly as she can. I pay and grab my bags to head for the door and just before I’m home free the voice is suddenly behind me yet again.

“So, are you really not going to tell me?” He asks, catching up to me outside, “It’s going to keep me up tonight, I’m waiting with bated breath over here.”

“Tell you what exactly?” I huff, finally turning to face him.

“How you get your hair that color, of course.”

I roll my eyes, surely, he’s not keeping this bit up for the sake of hitting on me in the fucking supermarket, “Do you want something from me?”

He chuckles a bit, and I’m glad to see my utter frustration is amusing to him, “I mean,” He starts, rubbing the back of his neck, “Maybe your name would be cool.”

“No thanks.”

“Well, I’m Harry-“

I turn and walk away before he’s barely got the sentence out of his mouth. What was he even in line to buy? He wasn’t carrying any bags.

Mental note: always wear headphones to the grocery store.

 ***

“You’re late.”

I collapse in the seat next to my friend Danielle with a huff. She gives me a certain look that says something like you’ve been late the past three times too, but honestly at this point she should know to expect it.

“I’m always late,” I groan, attempting to lean back in the incredibly uncomfortable library chair, “So, why are we at the library?”

“We have a math test tomorrow, or did you forget about that?” She asks, scolding me over the top of her math book.

“Of course I remembered,” I say sarcastically, “Math is my absolute favorite subject how could I ever forget we had a test?”

She rolls her eyes, turning her book to the right page to start taking notes and I try my best to follow along, “So do you have a legitimate reason for the lateness or just regular Harley excuses?”

“Actually, I do,” I say matter-of-factly, sitting back up straight in my chair, “There was a freak at the grocery store, dude would not leave me alone.”

“What was he doing?” She asks, suddenly interested.

“Just talking? I guess? He like wanted to have a whole conversation waiting to check out.”

“So, a nice guy just struck up some conversation with you at the store and that’s a bad thing?”

“Yes,” I huff, closing the book once again, “I was just there to get groceries I didn’t need the extra human interaction.”

She opens her mouth to reply but she’s cut off as a group of guys walk in the front door of the library talking at full volume. I can feel almost every person in the room turn in the direction of the loud noise at the front and suddenly my eyes land on him. There’s no fucking way.

“Dani,” I whisper, sliding down in my seat so I can go unseen, “Dani that’s the guy, the guy from earlier.”

“What?” She whispers harshly, trying not to stare as the boys get scolded by the librarian at the front, “You mean grocery store guy?”

“Yes!” I huff, electing to sit in my chair backwards so my back is to him.

“No way Harley, it just looks like him-”

“No Dani, it’s him,” I whisper, “Tall one with the curly hair in the black hoodie.”

“That’s him?” She asks, “You had a problem with that talking to you?”

“Shh!” I huff, “God he’s going to hear you, are they still at the front?”

“They um, yeah,” She stutters, her eyes diverting to her book again, “They’re still up there, at a table now.”

“What’s wrong?” I ask, sensing the discomfort in her voice and turning around myself.

My eyes immediately lock onto his and I look away quickly, shielding my face from him with my hand and turning back towards Danielle.

“He’s staring right at you.” She says, trying not to be too obvious.

“Yep.”

“Are you gonna go over there?”

“Why would I do that exactly?” I ask, my eyebrow raised in disbelief.

“Because a hot boy is staring you down across the fucking library!” She whispers harshly, reaching over to smack me in the arm.

“More like a fucking psychopa-”

“Hey there,” I hear his voice cut in and my whole body cringes in on itself without my volition, “Fancy meeting you here.”

I turn around in my chair, forcing myself to face him while my whole face heats and I’m sure I’m the color of a rather ripe tomato. Something about the way he says hey there in that fucking accent makes my entire body tense up.

“Hey there,” I mimic, “Long time no see.”

I feel Danielle’s eyes on me as the words come out of my mouth, her gaze flickering between the two of us and watching the horrifically awkward exchange play out in front of her.

He laughs, electing to lean on the table, “What are you doing after this?”

“She’s doing absolutely nothing.” Danielle answers for me and I kick her under the table, making her wince.

“Glad to hear it,” He grins, his eyes zeroing in on me once again.

“I’m very busy actually,” I cut in, closing my textbook and throwing it in my bag, “We both are, but um, I’ll see you around.”

Danielle is looking at me with eyes the size of dinner plates as she frantically packs up her stuff, shoving it in her bag to follow suit. I stand up from my chair, slinging my bag over my shoulder and he rounds the table to stand right in front of me, the only thing between me and the front door.

“Can I at least get your name?” He asks, his voice incredibly deep clearly for only me to hear.

“Harley,” I quip, side stepping around him, “See you later uh, Harold is it?”

He gives me a very particular look as I walk away from him, taking steps backward and relishing in the smirk on his face. He knows what I’m doing. I feel Dani’s hand grab my arm and I finally turn around to face the door, walking through it, but even as I’m outside and carrying my feet down the steps I feel his eyes on me, drilling into the back of my head.

“The hell was that?” Danielle asks, “He was so cute and you just, you just blow it like that?”

“Harmless flirting.”

“You call that flirting?”

“Oh Dani,” I sigh, taking out a cigarette and lighting it between my lips, “I call that winning.”

 ***

I’m woken up with a start when I hear the loud roar of music start from Dani’s room. She always blasts music in the morning while getting ready for class. I look over my shoulder to check the time, at least she waited until 10 to start with the noise. My head is pounding ever so slightly, and I realize why when my eyes land on the empty bottle of pink Moscato on my bedside table.

I drag myself out of bed and into the tiny common space between our two rooms, “Good morning sleeping beauty,” Danielle teases, “I noticed the bottle of wine went missing from the fridge.”

“That’s bizarre,” I joke, “Must be a wine thief in the dorms. I’ll get on that mystery right away.”

She shakes her head at me, rolling her eyes as I grab my basket of laundry from my room. I slide on a pair of slippers electing to go put it in the wash, so I hopefully have a single clean pair of jeans for class tonight. I call to Dani letting her know I’ll be right back and as soon as I open the door to the hall I’m staring at him.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” I groan.

He stops dead in his tracks, taking a glance over his shoulder to see me standing in my doorway. He’s dressed in only a towel, holding it closed while it hangs low on his hips. His hair is wet, clearly making his way back to his room from the showers and his chest and arms are rippling with muscles under his damp skin.

God those arms could crush me like a grape.

“Morning neighbor,” He grins, clearly getting a kick out of this, “Someone wake up on the wrong side of the bed today?”

“You’re in this building?”

“You bet, room 7C down the hall.”

“Well, neighbor, for future reference, most people in this building take their clothes to the shower with them.”

“You Americans,” He chuckles, starting to walk away from my doorway, “So prude, have a nice day Harley.”

He disappears down the hall and then behind his door and my mind gets to work on picturing what he looks like without the towel. You can nearly feel the tension between us in the air, it was palpable. I could even feel his eyes on me, looking me up and down and lingering on my lips. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to clear my head as I take a deep breath and start on my way to the laundry room downstairs.

I put a load in the wash, briefly tuning into the dramatic soap playing on the tiny TV hung on the wall. I decide to head back to my now empty room since Danielle left for class and end up wasting most of my day away on a bad Netflix original movie, only pausing half way through to go move my clothes to the dryer.

I order a pizza for dinner before my night class and go back downstairs to grab my laundry out of the dryer. Just as I’m opening the dryer and emptying my clothes back into my basket I get a text that the pizza guy is downstairs waiting for me.

“Shit, shit, shit.” I huff under my breath, quickly shoving all my clothes in my basket and slamming the dryer shut behind me.

I rush back to my dorm, chucking the basket of clean clothes inside before heading to the stairwell and nearly sprinting down them to get to the ground floor. I meet the rather impatient pizza guy downstairs before bringing the food back up to my room. I’ve just barely finished the first slice half way through a Criminal Minds episode when there’s a knock at the door. I groan, dragging myself from the couch and tossing the blanket off.

I open the door, rolling my eyes, “Dani, you have got to start remembering your key when you-” I’m cut off as I come face to face with him rather than Dani, “Oh, um, hi?”

“Hi,” He repeats, now dressed in a pair of grey joggers and a plain black t-shirt, “I believe you dropped something in the laundry room earlier.”

He reveals his arm from behind his back, holding out his hand with my bright red lacy thong dangling from his pointer finger. I can feel my entire face heat to match the shade of my panties, but I won’t let him get the satisfaction. I go to snatch them from his hand, but he stops me, gripping them in his fist instead and using them as leverage to pull me a bit closer to him.

“Probably want to be a bit more careful where you leave your panties lying around, darling,” He smirks, “Unless you want to leave them on my bedroom floor of course.”

It’s the final straw, those few words spoken in his deliciously deep voice absolutely dripping with that amazing accented tone, on top of the way he’s dressed, every muscle visible beneath the fabric of his t-shirt. I don’t know what I’m doing until I’m pulling him to me by my own grip on the lacy underwear between us, my mouth meeting his and his teeth instantly biting my bottom lip between them.

“Yours or mine?” He breathes out, pulling away from me just long enough to get the words out.

“Where’s your roommate?” I ask breathlessly.

“Vacation,” He says, “Till Wednesday.”

“Yours,” I laugh, pressing my lips back to his, “Definitely yours.”

He walks me backwards down the hall to his dorm room, shoving me up against the wall as he unlocks the door, his lips working down my neck. As soon as the door is open he walks me through it, bending down to grab the backs of my thighs and hoisting me into the air. He kicks the door closed with his foot and I laugh against his mouth as he carries me past his bedroom doorway, slamming that behind us as well.

He lays me out on the bed, nearly tossing me right on top of the mattress, my lacy red underwear still gripped in his hand.

“Any chance you got something this cute under there?” He chuckles, holding them up in both hands to really show them off.

“Why don’t you come find out?” I tease.

He rolls his eyes, finally kneeling onto the edge of the bed and crawling over to me. He starts to lean over me, but I shove his shoulder, forcing him to lay against the mattress before swinging my leg over him. I can feel him underneath me immediately and it makes my legs clench together on either side of him.

“Hi,” I breathe, planting my hands on his chest and meeting his eyes.

“Hi,” He repeats back to me, that bright smile of his making my stomach flip, “You gonna come down here or...?”

“Oh, shut up,” I laugh finally leaning down and connecting our lips once again.

His lips are ridiculously soft against mine while the feeling of his muscles under his t-shirt are quite the opposite. He reaches up to cup my face with both hands, trying to somehow pull me closer as if we aren’t close enough as it is. I can’t figure out exactly where I want to put my hands; his shoulders, his biceps, god, in that amazing curly hair.

My hips start to move against him without my volition and he groans into my mouth, a deliciously deep reverberation that makes me grind my hips into him even more. He grunts against my lips, finally pulling away and resting his forehead against mine instead, breathing heavily.

“You alright there tiger?” I tease him, threading my fingers through his hair, “Need a breather already?”

“Shut your mouth,” He chuckles, grabbing me around the waist and trying to flip us over so he’s on top.

He greatly underestimates the size of his twin dorm bed when he does so, both of us rolling off the edge and tumbling to the shag carpeted floor beneath us. I expect the mood to be ruined, for him to get up and usher me right out the door because how awkward is this, right? I’m beyond surprised when he starts laughing, both of us splayed flat on our backs and heaves out a sigh as he rolls over to face me again.

“That was pretty smooth of me, eh?” He jokes, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

I shake my head, chuckling too, “No I’m okay, just gonna have a massive bruise on my ass most likely.”

He laughs again, finally pulling himself to his feet and offering me a hand to help me up. I’m not sure what I expect past that, maybe a hug to send me on my way now that the atmosphere has completely changed but that tension is still between us, the same tension that’s been building since the moment he said a single word in the supermarket.

The second I’m back on my feet he shoves me onto the bed and I can’t even begin to hide the shock in my features. He’s back on top of me in seconds, his lips pressed to mine and I’m sure the surprised whimper that leaves my mouth fuels his ego to the gods.

“You alright there tiger?” He mocks, and I resist the urge to reach up and slap him.

“Careful.” I quip, pulling away from him to meet his eyes.

“Careful?” He asks, quirking up his eyebrow at me, “I’m sorry are you telling me what to do sweetheart?”

I gulp, the smooth but stern voice he’s using making my thighs quiver. He seems to notice, his eyes darting down between us and a small chuckle escaping his lips. He looks back up at me, his eyes dark and brooding, before they flicker to my hands at my sides. He grabs my left wrist roughly, holding it above my head against the mattress before doing the same to my right arm as well. I’m nearly squirming underneath him, my entire body steaming to the touch as his eyes bore into mine.

“Something wrong, love?” He asks, the condescending tone to his voice making my whole body shake.

“Course not,” I pant, my breath coming out heavier than I anticipated, “Just fuckin peachy over here.”

He chuckles a bit, his grip on my wrists growing tighter, “You’re not very patient, you know that?”

I’m not sure what it is that’s making me writhe the way I am; perhaps it’s the countless months I’ve gone without sex since my last messy breakup, or maybe it’s the way in which this all panned out with a stranger over some fucking underwear, or fuck, maybe it’s just him and the way that cocky smirk on his face makes my insides twist.

“Patience is a virtue,” I say carefully, making sure to keep my tone even, “I’m more about vices.”

His left hand releases my wrist and I prepare myself for his hand reaching where I need him most, sucking in a breath between my teeth and letting my eyes flutter closed but it never comes. My eyes peel back open to see his hand hovering over my neck instead. He meets my eyes before his fingers finally grace the skin of my throat, applying just the slightest bit of pressure almost as if to test the waters.

I’m nearly dizzy as he does so, the temperature in this room suddenly a million degrees. He removes his hand again, the pressure around my throat leaving me and I whimper in distaste, making him chuckle again.

“Poor thing,” He chastises, my legs clenching together on either side of him, “I can’t do it all though, if only there was a way I could hold down both your wrists and choke that pretty neck.”

I watch his hand dig into the pocket of his joggers and once again pull out the thin red lacy fabric of my panties, holding them between us.

“Mind if I use these?” He asks, clearly knowing the answer but wanting to get a reaction out of me anyways.

“Yes, god,” I gulp, “Please.”

He grabs my hands, moving them completely above my head before wrapping the panties around them a few times, tying them together. He tugs on them a bit to make sure they’re pretty secure before looking back down at me, his eyes completely blown out in lust, his pupil swallowing his surrounding iris.

His lips are back on mine in seconds, his now free hands roaming my body before one hand rests on my neck, gripping the sides and applying a bit more pressure than the last time. I whimper into this mouth and curse myself for doing so as soon as my eyes flutter open to see that cocky smirk on his face once again.

“Eager, sweetheart?” He teases, and my hand reaches up to smack him before I remember I’m bound in a pair of my own underwear, “Ah, ah, be a good girl and stay still.”

Hearing the words good girl come out of his mouth makes my entire body squirm and he grins again, that lopsided condescending grin and I know he’s getting off on this, making me writhe underneath him. He leans down to kiss my stomach, hiking my shirt up as he goes before working his way down and tugging my pants down my legs. I hold my breath in anticipation but when I look down the bed to meet his eyes he simply kisses the inside of my thighs, ghosting his mouth over the thin fabric of my panties.

“Fucking please,” I beg, my breath coming out in heaves, “Is this some kind of joke to you?”

“Please what, princess?” He asks, my legs threatening to squeeze his head between them, “Tell me what you want, hm?”

“You cocky bastard,” I huff, my mind getting fuzzier by the second the closer he gets to my center, “You know what I want.”

He stops abruptly, sitting back up from his small assault on my inner thighs, “What did you say, love? Care to repeat that? Couldn’t quite here you down here.”

There’s an edge to his voice, like glass, it cuts right through me and makes my thighs quiver, “N-no,” I stutter, “Didn’t say anything.”

“That’s what I thought,” He grins, leaning back down between my legs, “Now be a good girl and tell me what you want me to do to you.”

I suck in a breath sharply, but I won’t let him know how his words affect me, “Oh daddy,” I mock, rolling my eyes, “Need you so bad.”

He grabs me by the ankles, flipping me onto my stomach and sends an echoing smack to my ass, the stinging sensation that radiates afterwards making my toes curl. He flips me back onto my back, his dangerously dark eyes meeting mine as he spreads my legs apart once again, holding my thighs down against the mattress.

“Want to try that again, princess?”

“Fuck,” I gasp, the edge to his voice making the whispered swear fall from my mouth involuntarily, “Um, yes.”

“Yes what?” He growls, leaning down to hold my jaw in his hand, his eyes drilling into mine waiting for a response.

“Yes daddy.”

“Now you’re getting it, good girl,” He grins, his hand that was gripping my jaw moving to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear, “Now open up,” I oblige, slowly opening my mouth and he pushes his middle and ring finger past my lips. It catches me a bit off guard, but he only nods his head, “Get them nice and wet for me love, don’t want to hurt you.”

He pulls them from my mouth, a small string of saliva connecting them to my lips. He chuckles a bit, clearly getting a kick out of how worked up I am for him before finally pushing my panties to the side and pressing his fingers into me. I instantly turn my head to the side, muffling the moan that escapes my mouth into my pillow. As soon as he realizes what I’m doing he grabs me by the hair, holding my head straight.

“None of that,” He says sternly, “Wanna hear your pretty sounds, babygirl.”

I’m dangerously close to the edge just from the words pouring from his mouth in that accented tone that makes my entire body shiver. That condescending smirk finds its way back to his lips and I know that he can tell I’m close, just teetering on the edge already.

“Needy little thing, are we?” He teases, “Already gonna cum and daddy’s barely touched you yet.”

His words are almost just enough to push me over the edge, but I hold off as much as I can, straining away from his touch as much as I can with my hands bound above my head and his weight on top of me. I feel the particular twist in my stomach, that burning sensation in the very pit of my abdomen just as my eyes squeeze shut and my vision goes white. His fingers work me through it, his mouth finally hovering over where I need him most, sucking my sensitive bud into his mouth and making me shake.

I feel his fingers withdraw from me and suddenly he’s pushing them past my lips once again, but this time I taste myself on them, swirling my tongue around each one to suck them clean. I meet his eyes as he pulls them from my mouth and my hips involuntarily buck up to meet the bulge prominent in his pants.

“Still needy, are we?” He chuckles.

“Please shut up and take your pants off already.” I beg, my hips bucking up to meet him again.

“You see I would but,” He starts, sitting back on his heels, “It seems I don’t have a condom, would you happen to have one?”

“Would I, no, you have got to be fucking kidding me,” I stutter breathlessly, my blood starting to boil in disbelief, “What kind of guy doesn’t keep a pack of rubbers around you idiot?”

“Careful,” He warns, his voice dropping into that deep calculated tone that makes me shiver, “And perhaps a guy that just moved in this week and hasn’t necessarily had buying rubbers on the mind,” He says, “That is until he met a spunky purple haired girl in the supermarket.”

His words make my stomach do a few somersaults, but I don’t let it extinguish the pissed off fire burning in my stomach knowing that I won’t be getting the relief I desperately need right now.

“You’re serious?” I ask, “You don’t have any?”

“Serious, darling,” He chuckles, “But instead of moping about it, you’re going to take what I give you and say thank you daddy when I’m done, understand?”

I nod my head vigorously, despite wanting to do the exact opposite. What kind of hold does that goddamn accent have on me?

“Good,” He smiles, clearly pleased with my response, “And maybe if you’re a good girl next time daddy will remember to hit the store.”

“Next time?” I ask, not filtering the shock from my voice.

He laughs a bit, reaching up to finally untie my hands, “Yes, next time, did you want this to just be a one-time thing, princess?”

I can’t form the words I want to say as I sit up a bit, rubbing my wrists only slightly from the rough fabric of the lace wrapped around them, “I um, I don’t-”

“That’s what I thought,” He smirks, standing from the bed and holding out a hand to me, “Now come on, didn’t you get pizza?”

I smile, taking his hand and starting to stand to my feet, my legs a bit wobbly and I’m thankful for the stability of his arm to lean on.

“Do you have anything to uh,” I start, cringing when I feel the wetness in between my thighs, “Clean up with?”

“Nope,” He says cheerfully, “You keep that pretty mess I made between those thighs, babygirl.”

My knees nearly buckle, and I’m cursing him for his lack of condoms and the ache between my legs as I pull my pants back on, following him to the door to the hall. He stops abruptly just inside the doorway, turning back to meet my eyes.

“What’s my name?” He asks cheekily.

“Harry,” I say confidently, “Why? Are you worried I forgot already?”

He grabs my ass in his hand tightly, squeezing the skin, his voice calculated, “I said, what’s my name?”

I gulp, leaning into his grip on me a bit more as my knees wobble, “Daddy.”

He releases his grip on my ass, giving it a quick smack, “’Atta girl, let’s get some pizza in you so you’re ready for round two,” He grins, throwing his arm around my shoulder and tucking me into his side as we walk down the hall to my room instead, “Maybe after we can hit the store, I seemed to have forgotten to pick something up last time I went.”

[alrightberries]

honey, honey (how you thrill me)

request: i loved strawberries and cigarettes but levi just can’t catch a break :(( can we have a super fluffy modern au with boyfriend levi instead? thanks!

request: hi i’m new here and had read your fics. i love your take on levi’s character! Also that your writing is very great to read!😘 (tho that angst really made me cry HARD) if i may request umm... i want a levi x reader fic about them being like an old married couple but they’re not in a relationship ‘yet’ so like everyone ships them. Its a fluffy crack fic/ Reader is like “well you’re clean and I kinda lilke you so...” then levi be like “you’re tolerable and knows how to properly clean.” and then they really ended up married. It’s like the easiest transition from friends to lovers that one day they just said lets get married we act like it anyway whats new 😂. I want fluffs and laughs! Aot is angsty enough we need fluffs with our favorite characters!!

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: fluff, semi-crack.  ❈ word count: 4.6k

❈ summary: modern au. In which you and Levi are both professors at the same university, and are painfully unaware that all the students and other staff members have a bet that’s been going on for years now. What’s it about? When you’ll both finally confess to each other and just date already.

❈ trigger warnings: profanity. mentions of sex

a/n: made it gender neutral as per usual. this was really fun to write! makes me think about writing fluff more often (pffft sure)

Trost University was home to many brilliant minds. It was a prestigious school with an acceptance rate of 600 out of 4000 yearly applicants, and producing the finest students; those of which would almost always graduate with high honors before starting a successful career of their choosing.

Its professors, undoubtedly, were of the finest quality as well. They were professional, extremely skilled, and highly trained. It was a workforce full of almost over qualified educators excelling in their respective fields, with master and PhD certificates framed on cubicle walls being the norm in the faculty room.

Erwin himself was proud to be a professor here. He started working as a high school teacher when he was still studying for his master’s degree, shifting from high school teachings to college teachings as years passed by, before eventually getting recognized and offered a job seven years ago by the prestigious school.

His friends— a loving and longterm couple who, as far as he knew, were high school sweethearts and still going strong today— had joined him on this journey as well. He’d known them since they were in college, all studying different fields but aiming for the same career of teaching.

The three of them shared a strong bond; a bond built on study groups, mutual dislike for crappy teachers, and a certain love for education. They were there for him, and he was there for them. He especially disliked it, however, when their relationship went through rough patches. He didn’t like picking sides, and listening to the same story being told from two different perspectives almost always made him want to grab Y/N and Levi’s heads and bash them together for how dumb they were acting.

But despite the differences and occasional fights, he wouldn’t hesitate to say that he trusted them with his life.

So Erwin, for the life of him, couldn’t figure out why he was just now finding out that the power couple he knew and loved wasn’t even a couple at all.

“So, wait.” He speaks, trying to be heard over the crowded cafeteria chatter. “You’re telling me... they’re not a longterm couple?”

“They’re not.” Moblit confirms easily. “Apparently, they’re not even dating.”

“Or so they claim.” Hange interjects. “Y/N and Levi have actual matching rings. Literally— I asked Levi about it once and he said Y/N was his fiancé.”

“But not romantically.” Moblit quickly adds on. “I was there too, he said not romantically.”

“Why would Levi propose to someone he’s not romantically interested in, huh?!” She counters back, a little louder than the brown haired man’s volume.

“I don’t know! Citizenship? Money? Sex—“

“They’re in love! You know they’re in love, you’re just denying it because you want to get in Y/N’s pants.” She huffs. “And because you’re about to lose the bet.”

Erwin’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “Bet? What bet?”

“Oh, you don’t know about the bet?” Hange asks. “It’s been going on for, like, five years now. The entire faculty’s in on it.” She begins to chow down on her soup, not offering more of an explanation. Moblit takes this as his cue to expand when he notices Erwin’s blank stare.

“Since you guys joined maybe... seven or so years ago? Everyone just assumed Y/N and Levi were a thing. Because of, y’know, the way they interact with each other. But then five years ago Hange and I asked them when their anniversary was so we could get them some wine, and both of them full on denied even being in a relationship.”

Hange nods, more than a spoonful of soup and a more than generous bite of bread in her mouth. “Yeah, but then I peaked at their faculty files—“

“Peaked at their faculty files?” Erwin murmurs, but he’s ignored.

“—and they have the same home address. They live together!”

“I can confirm that much, at least.” The blonde man answers thoughtfully. “They’ve been sharing a dorm since college but Y/N moved out at some point. They live together in Levi’s apartment now, though.”

“That doesn’t prove anything.” Says Moblit. “They could just be roommates and really good friends.”

“Well I’ll say!” Hange throws her hands in the air. “I caught Y/N sucking Levi’s dick at a party once. Must be one hell of a friendship they have, aye Moblit?”

Her elbow begins nudging the brunette beside her, and Erwin stares with amusement when Moblit starts getting irritated from the eccentric woman’s teasing.

“So what’s the wager?” Erwin asks.

The two professors stop their bickering and share an evil smile. Hange gestures for Erwin to come closer, as if she were about to tell him a secret, and he does just that.

“Whoever wins the bet gets a free meal from Shaw’s Bistro.”

Erwin’s eyes widen. Shaw’s Bistro; the classy high end restaurant with the fancy wine, fancier atmosphere, and the best Japanese Salted Salmon he’s ever had.

It was an expensive restaurant— even for someone with his salary. Erwin knew he could rarely ever eat there unless he wanted to run his bank account dry. And he concludes that this petty bet must be a Pretty Big Fucking Deal.

He squints his eyes. “I’m listening.”

Hange giggles as she continues. “Basically, you have to guess how long it’ll take for Y/N and Levi to finally admit they’re couple. But you can’t choose the same answer as other people in the bet, we can’t afford two winners. Literally.” She gestures to Moblit. “Unless you’re like dumb dumb over there who wagered they’ll never admit it because they’re not a couple—“

“They’re not!”

“—I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

Erwin nods his head, one hand on his chin in thought. He never did explicitly ask whether they were dating or not, he just assumed they were.

He carefully considers his options; be a snoop to his longterm friends and possibly break their trust for joining a foolish bet? Or Japanese Salted Salmon from Shaw’s Bistro?

Hange and Moblit look at him expectantly, smiling when he nods.

“Deal me in.”

The cafeteria was noisy when you walked in.

Students mingled amongst themselves, chatting idly about academics and gossip. Cutlery scraped against each other as people took bites of their meals. Your eyes scanned the crowd, spotting your friends sitting around their usual table and having what seemed to be a heated discussion.

You turned to look at the man beside you. “Did you bring your own lunch today?”

Levi nods as he lifts up a small black bag. “Always do. But I’ll stand next to you in the lunch line so you don’t look like a loner.”

That was Levi Speak for I’ll wait for you.

You smile. “Thanks.”

The brief silence between you is broken when you start talking about your students— how proud you were that Armin was tutoring some of the struggling students in his free time, how terrible Jean was at hiding his crush on Mikasa, how terrible Mikasa was at hiding her crush on Eren (“I don’t even think she’s trying to hide it. At this point, I’m convinced that Eren is either dumb or dense.”)

Levi nods along to your tales, seemingly uninterested and bored. But anyone who knew him well would know he was listening intently as you spoke, every word heard loud and clear and processing in his mind as soon as they left your lips. Occasionally, he would pipe in with his own comments (“Eren’s just dumb.”) but he didn’t engage too much, opting to let you speak and rant on.

Your talkativeness never got on his nerves, contrary to popular belief. He liked listening to your stories, listening to your voice, and seeing the little glint in your eyes when you start talking passionately about your students. He overall just liked being around you. You were cleaner than most people he knew. You were tolerable. Sometimes a pain in the ass, but still tolerable.

But what does get on his nerves, however, is being ‘secretly’ watched by his friends.

Once he’s sure you’re not looking, he turns his head in the direction of their table, murderous glare prominent on his face. Hange, Moblit, and Erwin quickly snap their heads down and pretend to eat, but Levi knew they were definitely staring.

“Oh crap, I forgot my free meal card.” He hears you mumble beside him. He hadn’t even realized you were already standing in front of the counter.

“Figures. You have the memory of a gold fish.” Levi comments off-handedly. 

He hands the cashier his free meal card and grabs your tray for you, and you silently took the coat that Levi had swung over his arm to carry with you instead. You knew he’d hate for it to get dirtied by any accidental soup splashing.

“So, what’s happening on your end of the gossip?” You ask, both making your way to your usual table with friends.

Levi shrugs. “The brats are doing well on their thesis. Their grammar is shit though; makes you wonder how they graduated high school.”

You snicker. “You say that now but tomorrow pull an all-nighter to help them study and revise.”

“You’re not one talk. You scheduled two different consultations between classes and three more after your shift.”

“I can’t help it, okay?! You know I have a soft spot for the kids from the 104th.”

Of course he did. He knew of your affection for that specific group of students— admittedly, he held a twinge of affection for them too.

They were part of the first class you ever taught in your entire teaching career. At the time, you both worked at some crappy school in the 104th district. And to see the kids now, all grown up and studying at a prestigious college, it made your heart swell. And Levi’s heart... well, suffice to say it cracked some of the ice around it.

“That soft spot of yours is making you lose sleep.” He scolds. “I’ll take some of the consultations off your hands. The lil shits deserve a teacher who isn’t half asleep.”

Again, that was Levi Speak for Don’t overwork yourself, let me help.

You jokingly slap his arm. “That’s rude!”

“I know.”

Your conversation is interrupted when you finally arrived at the table, Levi setting down your tray in front of you and you handing him back his coat as you sat down next to each other.

“Hey.” You greet your friends, and Levi silently unpacks his lunch. “What were you guys talking about? It looked pretty intense.”

“Oh, nothing, nothing.” Hange waved off. “Just the usual. Grading papers, grading lab experiments, grading essays. The usual.”

You nod, unconvinced but letting it slide. “I see.”

The table is once again filled with laughter and conversations. Banter was thrown around here and there, mostly between you, Hange, and Moblit as you debated about films and TV shows. Levi and Erwin stuck to light chatter, but it didn’t go unnoticed to the shorter man when Erwin’s eyes squinted as Levi placed his arm around the back of your chair like he always did, or when Hange tried to hide her squeal when he wiped some excess soup from the corner of your lips.

Something was up.

It was about ten minutes into lunch when your phone began to ring, a notification from a reminder app you downloaded. You picked up your phone and sighed as you read your schedule.

“Gotta go. I have a meeting in a few.” You mutter, beginning to clean up your tray and utensils; you were a little disappointed. You didn’t even get to finish your soup.

Levi eyes you and the way you kept glancing back and forth between your soup and the clock. He sighs before he speaks, “I’ll take care of your dishes and buy you lunch later. Just go.”

“No, no, I can— fuck!” You yell when the bowl of soup is accidentally knocked over, spilling over your jacket.

Levi silently offers you his handkerchief to clean yourself up. He starts using napkins to clean the table as well, before taking the coat he brought and giving it to you.

“Use this for now.”

You smile at him once again, taking your coat off and slipping on his as you stood up. “Thanks.”

He doesn’t flinch (or react for that matter) when you kiss his cheek before you left, only letting out a small hum of acknowledgement as you waved goodbye to your friends and made your way to the meeting.

Once you were out of view, Hange’s smile immediately drops in favor of too serious eyes as she starts interrogating Levi.

“Okay, cut the crap, Ackerman. How long have you—“

“Hange, no, we’ve talked about this.” Erwin tries to reason but his pleas fall on deaf ears as she continues.

“How long have you and Y/N been dating?”

Ah. So that’s what it was about.

Levi sighs and continues to chew on his bread. He unenthusiastically stares at the woman yelling at him, swallowing his meal before speaking, “I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again: we’re not.”

“Bullshit!” She yells. “You guys are a disgusting old married couple who have two adopted children—“

“Dogs.” Levi corrects boredly, but just like everyone else at the table, he’s ignored as Hange continues her tirade.

“—have matching sweaters, do small bullshit for each other like paying for meals and lending your coats. And for god’s sake, they literally just kissed your cheek even though you hate human contact.”

She finishes her rant but Levi looks unphased. God, she wanted to punch his dumb and oblivious face so bad.

“Those are normal things normal friends do. I’m not surprised you wouldn’t know, four-eyes.” Says Levi, but Hange is unaffected and already used to his abrasive words.

Levi continues. “We don’t do anything beyond what’s considered friendship.”

Hange squints her eyes in suspicion. “Didn’t Y/N move into your apartment?”

“Yeah. Their landlord was shit.”

“Where I caught you having sex?”

“We’re fuck buddies and you don’t know how to knock.”

“But you introduced them to your mom as your fiancé?”

“I lied so she would stop bugging me about getting married.”

“You literally have a shared bank account and a shared retirement fund!”

“It’s easier to keep track of.”

“Damn it, Levi!”

Armin stares at the study guide in front of him, mind half processing the words and half... not. Quite frankly, he starts to wonder if the papers you’d given him were written in gibberish or some dead language no one spoke anymore.

You see him struggle to understand the sheet of paper in front of him, and sigh.

“Need a little help there, Armin?” You offer but he shakes his head. “I’m okay. I think I can understand this if I read through it more, it’s my friends I’m worried about.”

He glances beside him where the rest of his study group also stared the papers, each face painted with a unique mixture of confusion and dread.

You weren’t surprised, however. The readings for this module were quite complex, and the fact that your brightest students— Armin and Mikasa— were struggling with it made you feel a little bit hopeless for the rest of your class. Truth be told, even though you taught this topic countless of times, you weren’t entirely sure how to simplify it without leaving out too much information.

“Okay, how about this, we could—“ A soft knock interrupts your sentence, and you stare at the students in front of you to remember if you were expecting any more. It seemed like everyone was here, however, so you weren’t sure who was at the door.

“It’s me.” Came Levi’s voice, almost like he heard your inner monolgue.

“Come in!” You called out, focus shifting back to the paper in front of you as you heard the door open and close.

Okay, so I guess I could take this part and summarize it for them? Or would that still be too complicated? No, maybe I can—

“Ah, it’s that topic.” Levi mumurs, snapping you out of your thoughts. His face was directly next to yours as he stared intently at the papers you held. “No wonder you all look like you’re about to crap your pants.”

“Language, Levi. Not in front of the students.” You scold.

“They curse more than I do.”

“Still.”

He ignores your comment as he hands you a brown paper bag, pulling a chair out to sit next to you. He grabs the paper from your hands to look over the study guide you prepared, undoubtedly trying to figure out a way to simplify it as well.

“What’s this?” You ask, opening the paper bag.

“Bought you dinner.” He replies, eyes not leaving the paper in front of him. “I figured you’d forget again.”

As if on cue, your stomach suddenly starts feeling empty. It was impossible that you were hungry, though. You just had lunch. And after lunch you had some meetings to attend to, a couple classes, some last minute consultations, and— okay. Maybe it’d been a couple hours since lunch, but it couldn’t be that bad. A brief glance at the clock confirms that—

“Holy shit, it’s almost 8pm.”

“Language, Y/N. Not in front of the students.”

“Kiss my ass.”

“Gladly.”

The students in front of you let out a loud groan, faces over exaggeratedly contorted in disgust at your and Levi’s conversation.

Levi glimpses up at them and raises his eyebrow in question, while you jokingly roll your eyes.

“Alright, I think we should continue our consultation another time.” You said, beginning to pack up your teaching materials as the students did the same. “It’s getting late and curfew’s at 8pm. I’d better not see any of you outside the dorms.”

You knew you would though. It’s Friday night, there’s a bar across the street, and they’re teenagers. What could possibly go wrong?

You turn to Levi and hand him the keys. “You go ahead to the car, I’ll finish packing up.”

“It’s alright, I’ll wait for you in the hallway.” Levi takes the car keys as he stands up, walking out the door once again and leaving you alone with your students.

As you began to arrange your papers and clear the table, you start to remind them, “Okay, so we can discuss chapters—“

“Are you and Professor Ackerman dating?” Eren asks curiously, earning a shove from Jean and a silent threat to shut up, dumbass.

You chuckle. “No, Eren. We’re not.”

He gives you a doubtful look, one which you only return with a curious face.

“What’s with that look?” You ask, and he shrugs.

“You should date him— ow, what?!” He speaks, getting shoved by both Reiner and Jean this time before Mikasa pulls them off of him. You pause from your task.

“Okay, I’ll humor you. Why should I date him?”

The students share a look, daring each other to respond to your bold question. A few tense moments pass by and you smugly continue packing your papers. Yeah, you figured no one would—

“He’s nicer when he’s with you.” To your surprise, it was Mikasa who answers.

Unsure how to answer but still wanting to remain professional, you nod your head without looking up from your task. “Duly noted. Now go on, I know you have parties to attend to. I won’t hold you here much longer.”

The students laughed as they said their goodbyes; you held the door open for them until everyone was out before you left as well, shutting down the lights and locking the room once more.

A warm hand makes its way to the small of your back, and you smile.

“Hey.” Levi greets.

“Hey.” You repeat. “You read to go?”

“Yeah.”

“Wanna share my dinner when we get back home?”

“...yeah.”

He takes the stack of paper from your arms, his free hand reaching out for your own. You walked down the hallway in relative silence, interlocked hands swinging slightly from every step.

From the opposite corner of the hallway, the students’ prying eyes observe the small interaction; the two professors remained completely unaware that they were being watched.

“Told you they were a thing.” Ymir gloats, and the group snickers as Reiner irritatedly hands her some money.

Something was wrong.

If there was one thing Erwin knew from the nearly two decade long friendship he shared with you and Levi, it was when something was wrong.

It didn’t go unnoticed to him when Levi didn’t open your side of the car door as he usually would when you arrived at the parking lot; when he made a beeline for his cubicle in the faculty instead of helping you get settled first; when you didn’t make a fresh pot of tea for him before classes started; when your small sweet gestures throughout the day were kept to a minimal; and most importantly, when neither you nor Levi wore your matching gold rings.

The faculty was nearly empty, save for himself, Hange, Moblit, and the two people who were having a lover’s quarrel. The entire day went by without seeing you two walk side by side like you usually would, and Erwin was pretty sure Levi’s permanent frown somehow got deeper.

Yeah. Something was horribly wrong.

“Pssst.” Erwin hears from the desk next to his. He turns around and is met with Hange and Moblit’s curious gazes.

“The hell happened to those two? Trouble in paradise?” Hange asks, eyeing Y/N and Levi’s grouchy faces and refusal to acknowledge each others’ existence as they each packed their things. She adds on, “Are they getting divorced?” Only to be reminded by Moblit that “They’re not dating.”

Erwin shrugs, answering Hange’s question. “No idea.”

Moblit chimes in, “I heard Petra tried asking Levi out yesterday and now Y/N is jealous.” 

She scoffs. “Y/N isn’t the jealous type. Besides, Petra’s part of the bet so that means she thinks they’re going to get together.”

“I’m part of the bet and I don’t think they’re going to get together.” Moblit points out. “And Petra stares at Levi the way Levi stares at Y/N.”

“Full of disdain and irritation?” Hange asks.

“No,” Erwin finally interjects. “Full of love and admiration.”

“Can the three of you creeps keep your mouths shut?” Hange, Erwin, and Moblit’s heads snapped to the direction of the voice, eyes meeting a pissed off Levi with a pissed off Y/N beside him. It seems like their hushed whispering wasn’t so hushed at all. 

“When you gossip about our private life the least you could do is wait until we’ve left the room.” You gritted.

“No, it wasn’t-” Hange tries to defend herself but is cut off by Levi, “We already heard you talking. Now out with it before I change my mind about letting this slide.”

The three guilty professors sigh, sharing a look before Erwin decides to come clean. “We’re concerned for you.” He starts. “You’ve been ignoring each other the entire day and whatever this fight is, it’s the worst one I’ve seen you have.”

You sigh. “Listen, it’s not that we don’t appreciate your concern, it’s just that-”

“-it’s just that it’s none of your goddamn business.” Levi interjects and you immediately glare at his rudeness. 

“Shut it, Levi. I don’t have time for your bull.”

“And I don’t have time for your petty lies.”

The three watched as you and Levi begin to quarrel, sharp words and irritated glares thrown around with each passing second. Your voices overlapped with each other as Erwin tried to make sense of what it was you were even fighting about, some words about betrayal in the highest degree and ruining a good thing and a relationship built on lies being the few words he understands. 

Finally, he has enough.

“Stop.” Erwin says loudly but firmly. The two of you pause from your bickering him and stare at him incredulously; he continues to speak, “We’re not teenagers anymore, we’re grown adults. I’m getting tired of playing mediator whenever you fight but if I have to do it again so you stop yelling, then I will.” 

He sighs. “Now what the hell are you two fighting about?”

“Y/N started it.” “Levi started it.” You say at the same time, and Erwin feels a headache coming but decides to ignore it.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

The two of you stare at each other angrily, almost daring the other to back down. This goes on for a few seconds before Levi finally sighs and speaks.

“Y/N thinks lemon scented detergent is better than lavender scented detergent.”

Hange and Moblit snicker but quickly shut up when Erwin gives them a look. He wasn’t even surprised that a fight as small and menial as this would be the fight that tears his favorite power couple apart.

“It is and you know it.” You reply defiantly and Levi groans in frustration, hand holding his head in disbelief as he quietly mutters, “I can’t believe I’m marrying someone who thinks lemon is better than lavender.”

At that, Hange’s ears perk up. “You’re getting married?!” She screams, and the two of you look at her in confusion, fight suddenly forgotten.

“Yeah, next week.” You reply wearily. “We emailed you the invites.”

If Erwin thought your bickering was loud, then the squeal that Hange let out was nothing short of deafening as she suddenly lunges at the couple, forcing them into a group hug as she cheers, “I knew it! I fucking knew it! You are together.”

Levi scoffs. “Don’t be silly, it’s for tax purposes. Apparently the bank won’t approve the loan for our new house unless we’re legally wed; something about tax fraud.”

“House?” Moblit echoes. “Don’t you already live together?”

You nod. “Yeah, but we figured the kids-”

“Dogs.” Levi corrects.

“-deserve a yard to run around in. Our apartment’s getting too cramped for the four of us.”

“Don’t ruin this for me!” Hange yells. “I have a wedding to plan.”

Levi sighs. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, four-eyes. There isn’t going to be a ceremony. We’re going to a court house to get our marriage license approved. That’s it.”

“And we invited you and Erwin to be our witnesses.” You explained. “There isn’t going to be a celebration but we’re going to host a small dinner party for close friends and family.We’d greatly appreciate it if you can RSVP to the emails within the week so we know how much food to prepare.”

The three professors nod, each exchanging pleasant smiles. It wasn’t the wedding invite they were hoping to receive but it was still a wedding invite nonetheless, and they weren’t about to burst your bubble.

“Hold on a second,” Erwin mutters, suddenly remembering one detail. “Where are your rings?” He gestures to your ringless hands.

“We had them engraved with our initials. Makes things more believable.” Levi answers. “If you’re done with the dumb questions, we’ll go ahead now.” 

He doesn’t wait for them to answer as he holds your hand in his, walking you out of the faculty room and into the hallway as he pretends not to notice his friends giggling like teenagers at the information you just shared.

“So...” You start, giving him a warm smile as you squeezed his hand. “Do you think they’re catching on?”

Levi lets out a rare smile, eyes softening as he looks at you. “No. They’re too dumb to know we’re actually together. They’ll eat up whatever bullshit explanation we come up with.”

“Okay, but remind me again why we have to keep pretending like we’re not actually together and not actually getting married next week?”

He brings your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles affectionately before placing his hand on the small of your back.

“Does it bother you that they don’t know?” He asks, and you hum as you think it through. “No. It’s actually really entertaining.” You laugh. “But why don’t you want them to know?”

He shrugs, pulling you closer to him. “That’s what they get for placing stupid bets.”

alrightberries © 2020. do not modify or repost.

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[alreadyblondenow]

Edible 

– Mark x female!reader  – Smut, fluff, angst. Boyfriend & ex au – 1,625k – CW: FOOD & BAKING, oral sex (female receiving), reader wears dress, reader bakes. this is pretty self indulgent because this drabble was inspired by love for baking and teaching a handful of ex-lovers how to fucking bake + i miss my friends 

We all have that one ex with whom you had incredible memories with. Whether it's good memories or bad memories, you wouldn’t trade it for anything. That’s how much you loved him back then. 

“Oh hi! It’s so good to see you again here! You’re baking again?” the owner of the shop exclaimed. It moved you with how she still remembers that you’re a consistent customer in her baking supply store. 

“Yes, I recently got back to baking. I’m so glad you still remember me,” you smiled so big as you grip the basket that you’re holding, hoping that she won’t ask why you stopped baking. Which thankfully, she did not ask you such silly questions and told you where to get the usual stuff you buy and some new ingredients you might like during your shopping. 

As you walk from aisle to aisle and get the ingredients that you need along the way, you can’t help but remember good memories and sad ones about your ex as you put the ingredients to the basket. 

Flashback seven months ago

Mark promised to love everything that you loved before you met him including reading, korean drama marathon during Saturdays, and most importantly baking. And since the man had it easy with reading and watching a bunch of kdramas with you, he admitted that he is not good in the kitchen. 

“I can read thick books for you and watch TV from sun up to sundown, but baby cooking is really not for me. Let alone baking,” he crosses his arms as he leaned on the fridge while looking and scanning all the baking materials that you will use for this afternoon. “But I love you, and that’s why I’m here” he let out a heavy sigh and smiled so sweetly at you, “what do I do first?” 

“Well, we can start off by putting on our aprons so we won’t get messy,” you said as you grab the apron beside you and help your boyfriend wear it. Hugging him tightly as you tie the apron behind him and earn a kiss at the top of your head. Mark is always sweet like that. 

After you explain what you’re about to do, he was quiet and giving you your full attention… at least for the first few minutes until he decided to play around and make you laugh. You give him the measuring cups so he could measure the needed ingredients but he always messes up and ends up putting more than needed. 

“Baby, you’re ruining the recipe!” you giggle and tried correcting what he has done wrongly. “it said 1/2 cup brown sugar, you not 1 cup- ugh,” 

“What? I love you that much, and that’s how I’m going to be always sweet to you” he tried getting away with it by sweet talking to you but as he continues to follow your instructions he gets better. But even though that he’s trying he still messes things up even though he’s not doing it on purpose this time and he just feels so frustrated and a little shy because you had to fix it for him. So you told him you’ll do the hardest parts and he can handle the rest. 

“Sorry I’m not much of a help,” he says behind you while you try to focus on mixing, but Mark’s lips on your nape is very distracting. Not to mention his both hands are on your waist and came incredibly closer to you to slowly start grinding on your ass and to let you feel his hardening cock through his jeans. 

“We can’t have sex here Mark,-“ but you were cut off when he started to nibble your earlobe and caress your sides, slowly going up and inside your apron to give your boobs a tight squeeze. 

“Who says about having sex? You taste good like that cookie dough,” he says and dipped his finger on the cookie dough that you’re working on and put his finger on his mouth to taste it. “Mmm. No joke! It's good, it’s very good! Here try it,” and you have no other choice but to put his finger in your mouth and eat the cookie dough he gave you, feeling your tongue swirl around his finger which completely put him in the mood. “fuck, that's sexy,” he smirked and wiped his finger using the towel and immediately went on his knees to lift your skirt and go inside. 

“Nice view, I like your panties. But I like it more when you're not wearing one,” he giggles down there and kissed your inner thighs and clothed pussy. Slipping his hand on the hem of your underwear then slowly removing it until it’s down on your ankles. Mark pulled you closer to him, which made your wet slit land directly to his face. You felt him smile. Then left soft kisses on your pussy lips before he parts your folds, making your knees weak and earn a soft sigh from you. 

He gave you a few kitten licks, the ones that he does whenever he’s teasing you. But you’re not in the mood for teasing, so you lift your leg and placed it on his shoulder, giving Mark a better angle to your cunt, and went straight to fucking it with his tongue. 

Mark licked you up and down slowly, then gradually picking his pace whenever he feels your knees shake. Putting pressure on the spot that he knew you love and focused on licking that area. “Grind your hips,” he said, then put a finger in your hole to make you cum. 

You gripped the edges of the kitchen counter and tried so hard not to be so loud. You moaned and let out heavy breaths when Mark’s tongue went wild on your pussy during your orgasm, making you squeeze your legs and beg him to stop. 

He stopped of course and catch his own breath and blow cold air on your soaking pussy before he licks it one last time just so he can see how sensitive he made you. 

“Mark please, enough- baby, I’m so sensitive,” you said and he finally helped you wear your panties again and went back behind you like nothing filthy happened just a few seconds ago.

“You sure you don’t want to fuck?” he asks. 

“Maybe tonight, but not now. We have to finish baking” he nods his head and smiled shyly, “wash up please, and then come back and help me” 

You catch your breath for a few minutes and had a glass of water then you continued mixing the dough and adding more chocolate chips. When Mark came back, he put his hand on your hand while you were busy mixing, and the next thing you know you’re over mixing the dough together while you flirt in front of the cookie dough and praise each other with sweet words. 

But just like any other relationship, love is not always sweet and easy everyday. 

Seven months later  

And that’s the reason why you stopped baking for a few months. You can’t bring yourself to bake because you can’t help but remember the good memories you had with Mark around your kitchen and you hated it whenever you remember how perfect it was but still you didn’t manage to stay together until the end. 

“I’ll give you a generous discount since you’re going to buy a lot today,” the owner says while helping you get the goods out from the basket. You felt so excited while she puts the ingredients in a bag and you’re just happy that you’re back doing the thing you love the most. You also thought about the people you’re going to give a call to eat all the good stuff that you’re going to bake.

As you gather all the bags at the cashier, thanked the owner with a big smile and told her that she will see you more again, you hear the main door open and heard a familiar voice. A voice that you will never forget because that voice used to sing you to sleep. 

“Y/n?” 

You were like a stone when he said your name with a smile like he didn’t break your heart seven months ago. On top of that, he bravely gave you a friendly hug. Thankfully the sweet smell of the store was all you can smell and not his signature perfume. 

“Hey babe, mind introducing me?” the girl behind her smiled beautifully at you. And right then and there you wanted to run away from this situation but you can’t move your feet. 

“Uh,” Mark clears his throat, probably realized how awkward this situation is, “Y/n this is my girlfriend, babe she is my-“

“An old college friend, who bakes a lot” you cut him off with an awkward laugh. 

“Oh so you’re the friend he mentions to me a lot! I heard you taught him how to bake but he’s just really not good in the kitchen. Actually, Marky is the one who recommended we go to this baking supply store. 

“Do you bake a lot too?” you asked just so you can avoid being the main topic. 

“Oh no, we're just doing this for fun. He’s going to teach me how to bake and also this guy craved for cookies so you know,… just being the girlfriend to the rescue,” she answered with a proud smile that you used to wear. 

“Okay. That’s g-great, well I have to go now. Uh, enjoy baking together” finally you can move your fee and head to the main door. 

And the moment you stepped out of the store, Mark wanted to scream that he misses you that’s why he’s there. 

[albinodeer]

Stolas' Decision: A Helluva Boss Fanfic

@anitoonzforever requested a story in which Stella makes another assassination attempt on Stolas, forcing him to reevaluate his marriage. I hope you enjoy!

Reach out to me if you would like to commission me for any fanfics!

Stolas woke to the familiar sound of Stella screaming into the phone. He didn’t register the words. He didn’t even bother trying. He knew it would be something about wanting him hurt, wanting him maimed, wanting him dead… Anything to make him pay for cheating.

He hadn’t even considered it cheating at the time. He and Stella had drifted so far apart that they were only a couple on paper. It had been years since they had shared a bed, and Octavia’s conception had been the last time they had been intimate. Stolas had figured that Stella already had a male lover of her own and just hadn’t bothered to share this with him. He had no idea of just how much it would hurt her when she had found out about the passionate nights between himself and Blitzo.

At least Blitzo could hide behind the pretense that their time together was merely a business transaction. Stolas could not deny his hunger for the imp, and this is what made Stella so furious.

Stolas did his best to ignore his wife as he made his way downstairs. To his surprise, Octavia was already awake and sitting in the kitchen, eating breakfast.

“Good morning, my owlet,” he cooed at her with a smile. She didn’t respond. “Via?” he urged.

She pointed at her earbuds, not looking up at him from her breakfast. Stolas knew that meant that she could hear him, but simply did not want to answer. He couldn’t blame her. He knew that he had ruined any stability that the young girl had in her life. But still, he lived for those moments of connection with her. He would do anything for her to see him as a loving, protective father again. Loo Loo Land had been a disaster, but their trip to the mall hadn’t been so bad, even though he would never understand the things that she was into.

Stolas walked over to the table and sat down. “Would you like to go to the mall with me today?” he asked. “I know how much you enjoy it there with your friends.”

Octavia finally looked up at him and took out one of her earbuds. “Can we go to Stylish Occult?”

Stolas smiled softly. “Of course we can,” he responded. “Let me get dressed, and we can go.”

By the time Stolas rose from the table, Octavia had a small smile on her face, as well. Stolas felt a surge of joy rise in his chest as he headed back to his room.

Stella was outside of the room, berating a servant. Stolas figured he would extend an olive branch. Things would never be normal between them, but perhaps they could pretend for their daughter’s sake.

“Stella, we are going out to the mall today. Would you like to accompany…?” He was cut off by Stella’s sharp scream.

“I will not be accompanying you anywhere, you cheating prick!”

Stolas had long since stopped being affected by her words. He simply smiled back at her. “Okay, darling. I figured I would extend the invitation. I will see you when we get home.”

With that, he slipped into his room to get dressed for the day.

Stolas emerged a few minutes later, dressed in one of his more casual outfits, which was still rather fancy by Hell’s standards. Octavia met him in the foyer, dressed in her usual dark and somewhat baggy clothing. She had her earbuds in and was moving her head to the music, but she took one earbud out when she saw Stolas.

“Are you ready to leave, my owlet?” Stolas asked.

“Yeah, Dad,” she responded, sounding exasperated, but she had a small smile on her face. “No bodyguards this time?”

“No, I didn’t invite Blitzo,” Stolas assured her. “It’s only you and I today.”

Octavia pulled up her hood, hiding her smile. “Cool.”

***

Stolas always felt out of place in Stylish Occult. He felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb in that store, mostly because he did. Still, his heart was full as he watched Via grin at the taxidermized badger demon on the pedestal in front of them.

“Can I get it, Dad?” she asked, picking it up and admiring it.

“Of course, Via,” Stolas replied. “Get anything you’d like.”

Octavia tucked it under her arm and continued looking around. Stolas’ eyes followed her around the store, turning a small imp to stone that dared to approach her with a knife. Luckily, Octavia didn’t seem to notice. Stolas caught something out of the corner of his eye and spun to face it, but his gaze was met only with display shelves filled with odd knick-knacks.

“Dad?”

Octavia’s voice snapped Stolas out of his thoughts. He turned to face her, forcing a smile. “All set?” he asked, looking at the stack of merchandise that she held in her arms.

“Yeah, are you okay?” she asked, examining his face.

“Of course, my dear,” Stolas replied. “Let’s pay for all of this and get some lunch, hm?” He walked with her over to the check out counter and laid down a large amount of cash on the surface. His eyes continued to scan around them, watching for potential threats.

Once the cashier had finished packing Octavia’s things into bags, they headed out to the food court. “What would you like to eat?” Stolas asked Octavia.

“Whatever,” she responded, popping in an earbud, but Stolas followed her eyeline to her favorite fast-food restaurant.

“I’ll grab us something,” Stolas said. “You want to find us a table?”

He made sure that she was sat in his eyeline before heading off to the restaurant. The line moved for him, and he placed their orders. He turned another imp to stone that seemed to be approaching Octavia menacingly, then smiled at the cashier who handed him their food with shaking hands.

Stolas returned to the table and saw Octavia smile slightly as he placed the food in front of her. “Your favorite,” he grinned. “I’ve never really understood the appeal, but I know how happy this… food makes you.”

Octavia chuckled and took a bite. “Thanks, Dad.”

As Stolas reached for his food, a loud shot rang out across the food court, followed by some screams and the commotion of scattering imps. Stolas’ head spun around, looking for the source of the shot. He laid eyes on a familiar face. Striker.

Stolas rose to confront Striker, who was loading another bullet into his gun, but froze when he heard a small, hurt voice behind him.

“Dad?”

Stolas turned back to his daughter, whose shoulder was soaked in blood. He gasped and immediately wrapped his arms around her. He lifted her from her seat and ducked around scattering imps to get to the exit.

“Are you all right?” he asked as he ran. “How badly are you hurt?”

“I’m… I’m okay,” Octavia said through tears. She shook violently in his arms.

“It’s going to be okay,” Stolas told her. “You will be okay…”

He kept checking over his shoulder, looking for Striker, but he didn’t see the son of a bitch anywhere. Stolas found them a place to hide as his mind reeled. He pressed one hand to Octavia’s wound and dialed a familiar number with the other.

“What the fuck do you want?” Blitzo answered.

“I need your help,” Stolas said urgently. “It’s Striker. He’s hurt Octavia. Meet me immediately outside the mall.”

To Stolas’ surprise, Blitzo didn’t argue or make any smart remarks. “On our way,” he said before hanging up.

Not even two minutes later, the I.M.P. van skidded into the parking lot. Stolas picked up Octavia and brought her to the van, getting her settled gently inside before the van took off.

“What happened?” Blitzo asked as he drove back to I.M.P. Behind him, Moxxie had already started to patch up Octavia as Millie kept watch, her gun close at her side.

“We were in the food court, and I heard a shot. I saw Striker reloading his gun, and I was going to end him, but my poor Octavia…” Stolas started to tear up.

Blitzo glanced at them in the rearview mirror. “Keep it together,” he told Stolas. “She’s gonna need ya.”

Stolas nodded and held Octavia’s hand as Moxxie finished dressing her wound.

“She’ll be okay, sir,” Moxxie told Stolas. “It’s just a surface wound.”

Stolas was relieved, but he couldn’t help but feel a mixture of strong emotions well up in him as he looked down at his baby girl. Anger and fear and sadness and guilt overwhelmed him. He bit back a sob and squeezed her hand gently.

“Dad?” Octavia said quietly.

Stolas quickly wiped his eyes. “Yes, my owlet?”

“I’m okay, I promise,” she assured him. “I’m sorry your money got wasted…”

“Oh, my dear, don’t worry about that,” Stolas told her, petting her head. “You are worth so much more to me than any amount of money. I’m so sorry you were put in harm’s way because of me.”

Stolas did not want to believe it, but deep down he knew that his wife had hired Striker to have him killed. He never thought that she would have their own daughter be involved in any way, though. Perhaps he had severely underestimated her anger.

The van skidded to a halt in front of the I.M.P. building and Blitzo jumped out of the car first, scanning the area with the sight on his gun. “Clear,” he called to Moxxie and Millie. Millie helped Octavia out of the van while Blitzo and Moxxie shielded them.

Once they got inside, Millie helped Octavia lay down on the couch. Stolas sat down next to her, still squeezing her hand tightly.

“We gotta get her some water,” Millie said. “She lost a good amount of blood.”

“Loona!” Blitzo called as he kept a vigilant eye on the door.

Loona sighed as she entered the room, typing something on her phone. “What?” She looked up and saw Octavia lying on the couch, her arm bandaged. “Oh, shit.”

“Loona, we need some water for her,” Millie said. “And something to eat.”

Loona nodded and went to head for the door.

“No,” Blitzo commanded, “Find something here. No one’s leaving until I say so.”

Loona turned around and went to scrounge through the refrigerator instead.

“Blitzo, thank you for this,” Stolas said, ditching his usual nickname for the imp in favor of his preferred name.

“Yeah, yeah,” Blitzo replied. He heard a crash from his office and spun around. “Stay here,” he barked at Stolas, who had started to rise.

Still, Stolas moved to have a line of sight into Blitzo’s office. Stolas’ face contorted in anger when he saw Striker there, circling Blitzo. Stolas went to turn the bastard to stone, but Blitzo gave him a warning look. Stolas backed off and resigned to watching what was about to happen. He stopped Millie and Moxxie from entering the room, knowing that Blitzo wanted to handle it himself.

Blitzo kept both hands on his gun, aimed at Striker. Striker had a gun aimed at him, as well.

“Well, well, well,” Striker said with a sly smile. “If it isn’t Blitzo.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Blitzo snapped.

Striker took a step forward, peeking around the corner to see Stolas there watching. “I see you’re still letting that pompous Goetia use you however he pleases. Don’t be a fool, Blitzo. I will go through you if I have to.”

“Over my dead body,” Blitzo shot back, not realizing his mistake until Striker laughed.

“That’s the point,” the imp replied smoothly. “It’s not too late to join me, you know. No hard feelings.”

Blitzo raised his gun a little higher. “Go fuck yourself, Striker.”

Striker growled and lunged forward, grabbing for Blitzo’s gun. As Striker got one hand on Blitzo’s gun, Blitzo did the same, grabbing Striker’s weapon with one hand. The two wrestled for the weapons, pushing and pulling each other until finally Blitzo was able to break his gun free of Striker’s grasp. He pushed away from the other imp, knocking into the door and slamming it shut as he did.

Stolas pressed his ear up against the door so he could hear what was happening. Suddenly, two shots rang out at the same time. Everyone in the room gasped and rushed to the door as they heard a loud thud. Stolas held them back, waiting for a moment, hoping to hear Blitzo come to the door and tell them that it was over.

He did hear Blitzo, but he wasn’t speaking to Stolas.

“You get the fuck out of here and don’t come back,” Blitzo growled. “If I so much as catch a glimpse of you, or hear that you’ve been around Stolas again, I’ll fucking end you without hesitation. Got it?”

There was silence, but Stolas could tell that Striker had agreed by the way that heavy footsteps receded toward the broken window. After a moment, Blitzo’s steps could be heard heading toward his office door.

Everyone backed away as he opened it. He was clutching his side, where his shirt had been torn and he was bleeding a little. Behind him, there was a puddle of blood, then a trail of blood to the broken window.

“Blitzo!” Stolas gasped, grabbing him to inspect his wound.

“Calm down, most of the blood’s not mine,” Blitzo said casually. “He shouldn’t fuck with you anymore.”

Stolas wrapped Blitzo in a tight hug. “I cannot thank you enough,” he said. “Is there anything I could do to possibly repay you?”

For once, there was no sexual undertone dripping from Stolas’ voice. He genuinely meant it. Still, Blitzo pushed him away and rolled his eyes.

“Just try not to almost die so much. Fuck, it’s exhausting.” He plopped down in a chair next to the couch and examined the wound on his side. “Fucking asshole,” he grumbled.

“Let me help, sir,” Moxxie offered, but Blitzo shook his head.

“I’m fine. Escort Stolas and his kid home, now,” Blitzo ordered.

Stolas sighed. “I’m afraid we cannot go home at the moment. Not Octavia, at least.”

Blitzo narrowed his eyes. “And why the fuck is that?”

Stolas glanced over at his daughter, who had put her earbuds in and was moving slightly to the music now that the danger was over. He figured it helped her feel calm after everything he had put her through.

“I’m afraid that it was Stella who sent Striker to kill me,” Stolas told them in a hushed tone.

“Stella, your wife, Stella?” Moxxie asked.

Stolas nodded. “I overheard her on the phone after the Harvest Festival telling someone to kill me... No matter who they had to go through…” He looked at Octavia again, feeling an overwhelming wave of guilt. “I didn’t think much of it at the time. Imps and demons try to kill me all of the time, as you know. But, I never thought that she would put Octavia in harm’s way, and through thinking that, I put Octavia in harm’s way.”

“You couldn’t have known that Striker would be there today, sir,” Moxxie told him, trying to comfort him.

Stolas shook his head. “No, I couldn’t have, but I should have been more careful. My daughter was injured because of me, and not just because I took her to the mall today. It is because I stayed with Stella, even though I knew we were no longer happy together. She becomes more furious with me every day. I can only imagine what could happen if I let this go on.”

“So, what are ya gonna do?” Millie asked.

“I have to go there, by myself, and tell her that we are no longer together. I will deal with the ramifications of this myself. My daughter cannot be involved in our disputes any longer.”

Blitzo looked at him, obviously a little shocked, but he just nodded. “Okay. Want an escort for just you?”

Stolas smiled softly. “Yes. I would like that.”

“Great. Moxxie, you’ve got this,” Blitzo said quickly.

Moxxie frowned at him. “Sir.”

“Fine, fine. Get in the car,” Blitzo told Stolas as he grabbed the keys. His side had stopped bleeding, luckily, but he grabbed some bandages for the road anyway.

Stolas followed him out to the van and went to get in the front seat.

“Are you nuts? That’s the easiest place for a sniper to get you,” Blitzo said. “Get in the back.”

Stolas didn’t argue. He climbed into the back of the van and kept his head down as Blitzo pulled out of the parking lot. The royal wondered if Blitzo always drove so fast and recklessly. It was sort of attractive…

He stopped himself from falling into those thoughts. He needed to clear his mind and focus on the task ahead of him. He needed to confront Stella.

Blitzo whipped into the driveway of Stolas’ mansion and parked the van behind the building. “All right, am I going in with you or what?” he asked.

Stolas shook his head. “No, I don’t think that would be best. I will return when I am finished speaking with her and inform you of the result.” He shut the van door, then made his way inside.

Stella was just inside the door. She smiled when she heard the door open and turned to face who entered. Her smile fell away when her eyes met Stolas’. Her eyes narrowed and she went to speak, but she was cut off by Stolas.

“I am sure that you have noticed that I am alive and well, Stella. Do you notice anything else?”

Stella’s eyes scanned over his body. “You still look like a cheating prick.”

Stolas sighed. “No, Stella. Our daughter is not with me.”

Stella’s expression turned to one of horror. “No. Don’t tell me…”

“She is safe,” Stolas told her. “She is with friends. But she is also injured. Injured by an imp that you sent to kill me.”

“Injured? How badly?” Stella asked, suddenly seeming to care much less that her husband was still alive.

“Striker shot her, Stella, while trying to get to me. This needs to end.”

“Yes, I agree. Octavia will never be involved again,” Stella replied, missing his meaning.

Stolas stepped closer to her. “No, Stella. I mean that this relationship needs to end. It is ended. I underestimated just how far you would go to hurt me. I never thought that our own daughter would fall to harm due to my failure to end this relationship as soon as it ceased being a relationship.”

“And whose fault is that?” Stella snapped, but there wasn’t the usual level of bitterness in her voice.

“I am aware,” Stolas replied evenly. “And now you are free from this. I will deal with the political ramifications. You may have whatever you would like, property-wise, as long as you promise not to interfere with me or my daughter ever again.”

“Yourdaughter?” Stella asked.

“Yes. I will be taking Octavia somewhere safe until you show us both that you can be trusted. If you promise that the assassination attempts will cease, she may see you after some time, if that is what she chooses, but for now, you have shown us both that you have no regard for her safety,” Stolas said evenly.

Stella began to argue, but Stolas stopped her.

“We will negotiate the terms of this divorce later. At this moment, I need to return to Octavia. She will be needing her father.”

“Stolas,” Stella said, her voice suddenly soft. “You know that I never intended for Octavia to get hurt.”

“Yes, but you allowed it,” Stolas replied before turning and leaving without another word. He went to the van and climbed into the front seat. “We shouldn’t be bothered by her any longer,” he reported, “But Octavia and I will be needing a place to stay while I sort things out.”

Blitzo sighed. “You can stay with me, as long as you stay the fuck out of my bed.”

Stolas giggled, a little happier now that things were taken care of, once and for all. “You say that now, Blitzy, but I know you. You won’t be able to resist having me around.”

Blitzo rolled his eyes and drove off back toward I.M.P. as Stolas watched out the window. The mansion disappeared from his view, and he let out a soft sigh. He would no longer have to worry about tip-toeing around Stella, and she would no longer have to worry about him. Most importantly, he and Octavia were safe. That was all he could ask for.

[irelanddesires]

Trioblóid

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x reader

Warnings: Fluff, eventual smut, guns, violence, the usual gangster stuff.

Summary: Moving to Birmingham YN was lost. Tommy is still stuck in the tunnels in France. Will this match lead to ever after or utter devastation? 

A/N: Okay so this is literally the first thing I’ve written in probably 2-3 years. I’m trying to get back into the hang of things but it’s been really hard. Sorry if this is shit. <3 This is only part 1, there will be more, not sure how much more but at least 2 more parts. 

You hadn’t grown up in a city like Birmingham. In fact, the place you grew up could probably fit in a city block of Birmingham. Your mother and you had just relocated to the area a few months ago. You both had escaped your awful excuse of a father and husband during the night. You used the darkness of night to hide who you were and where you were going, stowed away in the back of a truck with animals heading to the city slaughterhouse. Once the truck reached the city you both had bailed, walking the rest of the way. You had been lucky enough to find a home for rent at a price that you could afford. Your mother had been skimming money from your father for months preparing for this. You didn’t have much but you had enough to survive while you both looked for work.

Within a few days your mother was lucky enough to find a job working in a bakery. You were still looking for something but in the meantime you were able to handle anything around the house while your mother was away at work. You hoped that this was only the beginning to a new, safe life.

The stairs creaked as you came downstairs, your mom long gone to work. Today you needed to tidy the kitchen before heading to the market to get food for the week. Making your way through the sitting room and into the kitchen you noticed the sky seemed to be darkening in the west. 

“Shoot” you muttered. 

With the possibility of rain you had to make a change of plans. Getting food for the week couldn’t wait, at this point you barely had anything at all in the fridge and would need to make something for dinner. Gathering your cash and bags you hurried from the house. The market wasn’t too far, only about a half hour walk from home. Usually this gave you time to bask in the sun, which was a rarity as it is, and interact with others if the possibility arose. 

Today would not be a day you could stroll to the market while having pleasant conversations. With the clouds blowing in and the air already feeling like rain you knew you had only a brief amount of time until it would start. You prayed it wouldn’t really rain until you could make it home. You made record time arriving at the market and quickly scanned the shelves and grabbed everything you would need for the week. 

“Good afternoon, Y/N” the cashier said and I began placing items onto the counter. Even with Birmingham being so large it felt so small sometimes. The shop owner had been in the neighborhood for generations so he seemed to know everyone, even the new people in the neighborhood. 

Pleasantries were exchanged before the shop owner had you all checked out and ready to go. Stepping outside you cursed as a gust of wind almost toppled you over. The sky had darkened significantly since you entered the store. You knew you would probably get drenched on your way home, causing your mood to sour. If only you hadn’t chosen this morning, out of all mornings, to sleep in just a bit. 

Walking back through your neighborhood was eerie. The sky was dark above you, matching the black of the buildings and street. The only nearby sounds were of your heels clicking against the brick sidewalk. It seemed like everyone had disappeared leaving you to hustle home alone. Thunder rolled in the distance, 

“Oh fuck” you muttered, quickening your pace. 

Rain isn’t unheard of in England, in fact more often than not it rained. Being caught out in a storm is a whole other story, one she didn’t want to experience. Her feet ached as she pushed herself harder, hoping she could make it home before the food she carried became soaked. Rain didn’t really mix well with bread and flour. With only your mother being able to provide for the two of you, it made things tight with money and there really wasn’t room to replace ruined food.

As the first few drops hit the ground you tucked your chin down into your jacket and wrapped your arms around the bags you were carrying, hoping that you would be able to shield it for the most part. The wind whipped around you sending your hair flying in all directions. The coolness of the wind broke through your jacket causing chills to run down your spine. If the streets before were eerie, they were down right scary now. No one was around, no person, no animal moved. Turning the corner you sighed, your house wasn’t too far from here, just another block and a right turn. You might be lucky after all you thought. 

Before you had a chance to relax at being so close to home a clap of thunder boomed in the sky above you like a bomb and rain began to fall as hard as you’ve ever seen it. Between the wind, rain and your hair covering the majority of your face you had no idea how close you were to another person until you collided. Your breath oofed out of your chest at the force of the collision, bags falling from your arms, before you could topple over arms came around you holding you upright. 

“You alrig’ love?” a deep voice caressed you. 

You don’t know what you were expecting to see when you looked up but piercing blue eyes weren’t it. The stranger’s eyes were beautiful, so blue you felt like you could swim in them. Your eyes wandered across his face getting lost in the chiseled features you found. His voice brought you back to reality,

 “Love? You alright?” he asked again. 

You suddenly realized how close you were, his arms wrapped around you in somewhat broad daylight, anyone could see. You quickly stepped out of his embrace and cleared your throat before answering, 

“Yeah… Yeah I’m fine.”

Looking at your feet you saw all your groceries strewn across the black cobblestone. 

“Fuck!” you cursed, bending to start picking up all the food and stuffing it back into bags. 

The stranger crouched across from you and began helping gather what was left in another bag. You both stood and the stranger lifted your bag back to you, amusement across his face. 

“Well I’m glad someone found this amusing” you snapped

Curiosity flashed across his face but the amusement never left his eyes, it was like he was in on an inside joke leaving you dripping wet and angry at the ruined food in your arms. Sighing you went to apologize for colliding with him but he quickly held up a hand silencing you. 

“No apologies. John will see you home safely and you can send me a bill for what was ruined.” 

You hadn't even noticed someone else was there, casting a quick glance behind him you saw another man dressed in the same fashion leaning against a car. His expression must have worn the same shock yours did as you looked at one another. You thought over it for a few seconds before turning your attention back to the man in front of you. 

“Thank you,” you agreed with a nod. 

Before you could process what was happening the man, John, was ushering you into his car. He had taken your bags from you and placed them in the back seat. He came around the car and hopped in the driver's seat before taking off down the road. He inquired about your address but that was the extent of your conversation. 

John dropped you safely at home and even helped carry a bag inside. You shouldn’t have felt comfortable with either man, just looking at them you could see that they carried demons. 

That night, laying in bed, you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering toward the mysterious blue-eyed man and how hauntingly beautiful he was. You hoped you would have the chance to run into him again, just to see him again. Your mind traveled to wicked thoughts as you drifted to sleep and thought of those blue eyes.

[meteorrogers]

chocolate covered strawberries | r. d.

summary: a precious person like you was what had been missing in Ransom’s life. 

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

warnings: fluff only, language, implied smut maybe?, oh and beware of fucking soft!Ransom

word count: 3,479 (less or more)

a/n: well, i certainly didn’t expect it to be this long. anyway, this is a soft and ooc!Ransom fic, no spoilers because i follow practically nothing from the movie (at least i think). excuse my errors, please, and enjoy!!😊let me know what you think!!

Ransom is furious, driving home from another family gathering that couldn’t end any differently than with yelling, insults, and throwing things at each other. He has no idea why he‘s still going to these things, he always swears to himself that the next time will be the last time. Maybe somewhere deep inside of him, there’s still a sparkle of hope that one day he will have a normal conversation with his mom and dad.

He needs something to calm him down and while a drink and some bimbo he’d meet in a bar sound amazing, it is still early for that. On his way home, there is this bakery he‘s always liked to stop by because they have the best fresh-from-the-oven chocolate-filled croissants to ever exist. They are maybe even better than alcohol. Just maybe.

He leaves the coat in his car and heads towards the entrance. The bell above the door rings as he enters, taking his sunglasses off. The shop is quiet except for the soft chatter of the patrons that are occupying some of the seats. He doesn‘t even need to look at the display case with all the baked goods, he already knows what he’s having, so he heads directly to the counter to order.

After the cashier takes his order and disappears in the kitchen, Ransom slowly moves to the waiting counter where a young woman is chatting with the older man (Timmy, he thinks is his name) that owns the place together with his wife. The woman has a big genuine smile on her face and occasionally a beautiful laugh leaves her mouth when Timmy says something supposedly funny. Ransom has never seen her before. Maybe it’s not so early to charm his way into a woman’s bed after all. He gets closer and as Timmy hands her her order on a pink paper tray – two Halloween themed cupcakes, with white frosting, yellow and orange sprinkles and a little marzipan ghost sticking out – Ransom only hears their goodbyes.

You are still smiling, cheerful from the conversation you had with Timmy as you turn around, ready to leave, and enjoy the sweet treat on the way home. But you don‘t even have the time to react when you suddenly collide with a solid figure. You stumble a little, but strong hands on your shoulders steady you, which you don‘t even realize since your mind‘s only focus is on the mess you have caused. And just like that, your smile disappears.

“Oh my god,“ you gasp and your eyes widen as they scan the not-so-white-anymore cable-knit sweater covered in frosting and sprinkles. “Oh my god,” you repeat, a little louder this time. Panicking, you quickly dispose of the tray with crumbled cupcakes, taking an unnecessarily high number of napkins from the holder on the counter and trying your best to clean the beautiful cozy-looking piece of clothing.

You have yet to see the person’s face, either too embarrassed to look them in the eye or too concentrated on getting the crumbs out of the wool. Probably both.

“I am sorry.” You say, throwing the dirty napkins on the counter. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve been looking where I was going. I was still so absorbed in the conversation that I didn’t notice you,” Oh, god, here comes the downpour of babbles… „And I didn’t even hear you come behind me or maybe I wasn’t paying attention, that’s prob–“

Your gibbering is interrupted by the stranger’s hand circling your wrist, also stopping your frantic movements.

“Would you calm down? It’s just a sweater. I can buy a new one.”

You finally look up, your eyes meeting ocean-blue ones with hints of green around the pupils. His voice sounded empty, emotionless and you aren‘t sure if he is upset or just doesn‘t care.

“Oh,” slipping your hand out of his hold, you break the eye contact, the situation too embarrassing for you. You look at the mess on the countertop, the paper tray still laying there, dirty napkins scattered across the surface and some of them even found their way to the ground.

Shaking your head, you grab all the garbage, bend down to pick up the ones on the floor and throw it into the trash can situated in the corner.

You turn back to the man, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Um… Can I at least pay the cleaning bill?”

“It’s fine, really.”

He still hasn’t cracked a smile.

“Well, let me buy you something sweet then. What’s your guilty pleasure?” you smile again and look over his shoulder, studying the selection of desserts.

“I said it’s alright,“ he bites. “Besides, I already ordered.”

You don‘t expect him to snap at you like that so it kind of shocks you. Better let sleeping dogs lie…

“Okay,” you nod. “I’m sorry again,” you stuff your hands in your coat pockets and head out.

Ransom stands there, looking at your leaving form and he sighs. Shit.

When you bumped into him, he was really pissed that you ruined his clothes at first, but then you started apologizing, cleaning him and rambling . That infuriated him even more. Why the hell did you even care? It wasn’t even your sweater!

You were annoyingly sweet, which Ransom isn‘t used to at all. Sure, women are nice to him, giving him that fake sugary smile just to get into his pants. He never complains, of course, it makes getting laid much easier when they’re trying to get his attention, not the other way around. But it was just an act. The smile you gave Timmy was genuine and so was the concern about his sweater. How was he supposed to react?

His thoughts are interrupted by the young employee who took his order, signalizing his croissant is ready. He takes it and turns to leave, his face still painted with… confusion?

“Fuck.” He curses silently. You can‘t be far. If he hurries, he can still catch up to you and… apologize? He doesn’t know what he’s going to do, except for one thing.

He faces the cashier again. “Hey, could you give me two of those Halloween cupcakes? With the ghosts. And wrap it up. Quickly,“ his voice is intimidating, arrogant and the boy doesn‘t have the balls to argue so he just does as he is told. Ransom snatches the covered tray from the boy’s hands and sprints out.

He looks around and luckily sees you not so far away from the shop so he decides to add a jog to his steps as he follows your direction.

“Hey!” he yells to catch your attention, which he successfully does. You turn around, brows furrowed, stopping when you notice the man from the bakery.

He runs up to you and when he reaches the place where you’re standing, you open your mouth again.

“Oh, did you change your mind?” Your hand makes a move to reach into your bag. “Just say how much and I’ll –”

“No.” He interrupts and confusion becomes evident on your face again. “As I said, it’s fine.” You expect him to continue, to tell you why he stopped you in the middle of a street. But he just stands there, looking at you as if he expects you to say something.

See, when Ransom spontaneously came up with this great plan, he didn’t think it all the way through. He seriously didn’t know what he was going to do, so now, he is just awkwardly shifting on his feet as he contemplates what to say.

“Here.” He shoves the mini tray into your hands. You look at it and then back at him, still confused. „It’s the cupcakes you bought before my sweater decided to have a taste.“

Really? That’s the smoothest thing you could think of? Jesus, what is wrong with you?

But you laugh. And god, is that a beautiful sound. Wait, what?

“Thank you, that’s really sweet of you.” you smile and before Ransom can argue, you stick your free hand out. “I’m (Y/n).”

He closes his fingers over yours. “Hugh… I mean, Ransom.”

The smile doesn‘t leave your face. “Well, which is it?”

“Ransom, you can call me Ransom.”

“Nice to meet you, Ransom.”

You have known since the beginning that Ransom has some skeletons in the closet. Hence the rudeness when you first met and struggle of wording out an apology for his manners. He managed to apologize in his own way and that was okay with you. You know people who don’t even try, but Ransom? He did his best and for that, you gave him your number when he asked.

It didn’t take him long to call you and ask you out. You agreed.

When he asked you on a date, his plan was to take you out for a dinner in a luxurious restaurant, order some expensive wine to get you a little bit tipsy, and spend the night at your place. The next morning he would silently sneak out of your house, block your number and never see you again.

But you are here, sitting across from him, with that big smile on your face, wearing a lovely cream knee-length dress that shows just the right amount of skin which makes him horny and at the same time, he just wants to focus on not how hot, but how beautiful you look.

“So, tell me more about yourself,” you say after the waiter takes away the empty plates.

There is no way he will talk about how filthy rich he is, how his grandfather owns one of the most successful publishing companies and lives in a huge mansion in the rich part of town. No, he’ll save this information for the gold diggers.

“Well, you might know my granddad, Harlan Thrombey?” Okay, nevermind. “He owns Blood Like Wine?” In his defense, this is all he’s ever talked about with girls. He just needs practice. 

You nod. “Oh my God, yeah, of course, I know him! I mean, not know know him, but I’ve read some of his books! Just don’t ask me about them, I’m not exactly a number one fan.” you scrunch your nose and his mind tells him how adorable that is. Shut up, brain.

“Okay, I won’t.” he laughs genuinely. He always fakes laugh when he is on a date if you can even call the ones he’s been on that. “Besides, you can’t be a number one fan even if you wanted to, because that place is mine.”

“I wouldn’t assume anything else. Are you close with your granddad?”

He averts his eyes for a second and clears his throat.

Instead of answering, he throws the question back at you, his voice defensive, maybe a little too harsh. “Are you close with your granddad?”

The corners of your mouth slightly falter and you look down for a second before facing him again, “I was. He died when I was 15.”

“Oh.” Ransom’s face softens.

“But I loved him. Every Halloween, I’d force him to tell me scary stories all day and all night.” you smile at the memories. “You know, I’m sure he and your granddad would get along. He did come up with some pretty amazing tales.”

And suddenly, he is intrigued. “What was your favorite?”

You tell him about the cursed toy factory, how every Halloween all toys come to life and they stuff all the employees with plush so they become these living toys, too, and from all the anger, they do the same to the future workers the following year.

He laughs at that, agreeing that your grandfathers would indeed be good friends.

“I’m not that close with my granddad,” he says after a few moments of silence. What surprises him is your hand carefully coming to take his which was laying on the table. His eyes focus on your thumb that is stroking his knuckles as he continues. “I’m not close with anyone from my family, actually.” Why is he telling you that? Fucking stop.

He clears his throat and withdraws his hand, scratching the back of his neck.

“You ready to go?” he asks and you just nod.

He isn‘t in the mood for sex anymore, so he drops you at your place and speeds home. God, what are you doing to him? There is something about you that makes him want to open up to you, spill all of his secrets, desires and dreams.

It felt kind of good to tell you about his family, but to be honest, he is scared. He doesn‘t want another person that’s just going to treat him like a worthless piece of shit in his life. I mean, he is, but it would just make him even more shitty.

He’s decided. He is not going to see you ever again.

Then his phone beeps.

(y/n): I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable but I had a great time! I’d definitely be up for doing it again! You can tell me more about your family:)

He scoffs. Why the hell would you want to hear about his family when he told you he’s not close to them?

Then the phone beeps again.

(y/n): Or not! I mean, we can talk about whatever you want! But if you need someone to talk to, I’m here. That’s what I meant.

A smile involuntarily makes its way on Ransom‘s face. Maybe he will see you again.

Since you started spending a lot of time at Ransom’s house, he convinced you to bring some of your stuff. Some clothes, your favorite mug with a whale, saying mornings blow, books and a strawberry-scented shampoo which Ransom became to love.

Almost every morning you share a shower. Sometimes it escalates into a morning shower sex, but most of the time you try and fail to tame him, even though you remind him and yourself of all the times you’ve been late for school, which he doesn’t really care about, to be honest.

You head to the bathroom first, because it takes time for him to get out of bed. After a while, he joins you under the stream of water, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind as he kisses you where your neck meets your shoulder and licks the drops of water from your skin.

You sigh in contentment, putting your arms over his and enjoying the relaxing moment.

Seconds pass and you turn around, taking the bottle of your shampoo while doing so, squirting some into your palm, and the scent of strawberry fills your nostrils. As usual, you bring your hands into his hair, massaging the liquid into his skull and he closes his eyes in bliss, humming.

“You enjoying yourself?” you smirk.

He opens his eyes again and smiles, those butterflies in your stomach coming to life.

“You know I do.” He leans in to kiss you, your arms circling his neck. His hands slide to your butt, kneading the flesh before they grip the back of your thighs but when you are about to jump, he shrieks.

“Shit!” he backs up and his back hits the opposite wall.

You panic, not knowing what’s happened. “What?! Baby, what happened?” You come to him and his fingers are already rubbing at his eyes.

“My eyes! My eyes!” He screams. “I can’t see shit!”

You suppress a laugh, reaching up to remove the hair from his face and wipe away the suds. Then you reach for the detachable showerhead, turn down the temperature, and put it in his hand.

“Here, baby, you have to rinse them.”

He does just that, moans still leaving his mouth at the stinging.

After he finally manages to get all the chemicals out of his eyes, you can‘t hold it anymore. You burst out laughing, unable to stop and he just stares at you with a scowl, putting the showerhead back into its place.

When he turns to leave, you grab his wrists.

“Oh, baby, come on.” you wipe the mixture of water and tears from your eyes. “Don’t leave me here all alone.”

He frowns, his bottom lip sticking out just a little bit. “Might as well. I’m not gonna let you make fun of me.”

The grin is still on your face but you stand on your tiptoes and kiss his pout away. Ransom immediately reciprocates the kiss, pushing you against the wall.

“It hurt,” he says in between the touches of your lips.

“I know, baby,” you say. You pull away and smirk. “Is there a way I can make you feel better?” your suggestive tone hits his ears before you’re sliding down the wall to your knees.

Thank God he didn’t leave the shower.

It’s Friday night and you are watching TV this time in your apartment. Ransom still hasn’t come home from the mansion where he’s spent most of the day, as well as his family. He’s been working with Harlan for quite a while now which boosts up his confidence (not arrogance, there’s a difference) a little and it makes him feel better about himself, proud even, that he‘s finally useful. However, Walt has been giving him shit for it ever since Harlan gave Ransom a chance to be the Acquisitions Editor (of course, he has been pestering him long before that, but now it’s even worse).

Ransom can defend himself, you’re not worried about that, but his family brings out the worst in him, they push him into this dark place that is hard to find a way out of and sometimes you’re afraid that it will destroy him. That’s why you’ve promised yourself that you’re always going to be here for him, no matter what.

And as you expected, you hear your door being unlocked and then slammed shut with a force. He doesn’t even jokingly call out his honey, I’m home! which he never forgets to do. Uh-oh. Doesn’t look good. But again, you didn’t expect anything else.

He comes to the living room, strands of his hair sticking in every direction and falling over his forehead.

“Jesus, why’s it so hot in here?” he takes off his maroon sweater, revealing his plain white t-shirt underneath.

“It’s winter and cold. You expect me to have snow in here, too?”

He just shakes his head, coming to the back of the couch as you crane your head to give him an upside-down kiss. Then he heads to the kitchen, searching the cabinets for something to eat, meanwhile, you turn off the television.

“There should be three croissants in the breadbox!” you say loudly enough for him to hear.

“You want one, too?”

You answer with a no and wait for him.

When he comes back to the living room, he sits next to you and leans his back on the armrest. You’re already looking at him, watching his every move, and trying to see a sign of any emotion he might be feeling. He gives you a knowing look and you shift so you are fully facing him, putting your hand gently on his bent knee and lightly stroking it in a comforting way.

“Three, huh?” he asks with his mouth full.

“Just in case it went really bad.” you give a nervous smile, waiting for him to either confirm or rebut.

Seeing the crumbs fall from his mouth, you reach for the plate that is on the coffee table and give it to him.

“Well... nothing I’m not used to.” he takes another bite of the chocolate pastry. Once he swallows, he takes your hand and kisses your palm. “I love you.”

You smile and lean towards him, supporting yourself by putting both hands on his thighs as you kiss him on the lips that now taste like cocoa.

“I love you, too,” you murmur against his mouth.

After Ransom finishes the pastry, instead of going for more food, he lies down, putting his head in your lap. It‘s kind of a ritual now, every time he comes home (his or yours, wherever you are) after visiting his family, he satisfies his sweet tooth (sometimes it’s 1 croissant, sometimes it’s 5), then he sprawls his body on the couch and rests his head on your thighs, nuzzling his face into your stomach while you thread your fingers through his hair and read a book or watch the TV.

“You want to talk about it?” you ask softly.

You stroke his ear with your thumb. He stays quiet and then sighs.

“Later.”

You bend down as much as your position allows you to, placing a few kisses on his temple and across his cheek before you let him drift off to sleep.

You are Ransom’s safe place, just like he’s yours and always will be.

the end

a/n2: so, ehm... *crickets chirping* okay! i have a thing for fucked up guys who i believe can change if you show them a little bit of love, sue me! no but seriously, Ransom is an asshole and he would probably shove the rest of the cupcakes into my face but a girl can dream, right?

anyways, i do have some ideas for part 2 even if it looks like this doesn’t necessarily need a second part..? it could probably be read as a stand-alone but i’ll see if i even decide to post it lol.

thank you so much for reading, any kind of feedback will be appreciated!🥺❤️i love you, guys!!

oh and my other work can be found under #writer luci !!

[starlightinhumanform]

24/7: Chapter One

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Ship: Romantic Loceit, Platonic Demus, Platonic Logicality 

Summary: James (aka Janus) works the graveyard shift at a open-all-night convenience store. Logan is a college student who stays up way too late, way too often. While pulling all-nighters, he often visits the store James works at. As time goes on, James begins to care about Logan as more than just a customer. 

Warnings: Moderate Language, Some suggestive jokes, Mentions of ignorant/negative sentiments regarding vitiligo, Mentions of intoxication— some implied to be underage (please tell me if anything needs to be added)

Genre: College AU, Coffeeshop AU but weird (that’s literally the best way i can think of describing it), Mutual Feelings, Fluff 

A/N: — Janus’ name in this AU is James (mostly because when I began planning this, his name hadn’t been revealed). I may still include his name by writing in a name-change but we’ll see lmao — I do not have vitiligo and do not personally know anyone with vitiligo; Janus’ experience with the condition is based entirely on my research. That being said, I did my best to give an accurate representation but I do not claim that it is flawless in anyway. If there are any improvements you think I can make in this area, please please let me know 🖤🖤🖤 Love you all 🖤✨

Ao3   Fic Masterpost    Fic Request Info

James’ first shift started normally. That is, as normally as he could assume 24 hour convenience store shifts could be. It’s not like he had much experience with it.

Being his first day, he had assumed that the manager would’ve at least stuck around for a while. Instead, the woman had pointed out the bathroom plunger— advising him to not let anyone steal it— told him how to use the slushie machine, and said that if someone tried to rob the store, let them take the money; she even showed him the quickest way to open the cash register. Then she left within the first hour of James’ shift.

James didn’t mind being alone but he couldn’t fight down the frustration at his manager for abandoning him without actually telling him anything useful. He kept worrying that someone would ask a question that he couldn’t answer. What if the customer got angry and then he got reported and lost his job on the first night? Not to mention every time someone walked in, he was ready to bargain for his life with the $225.67 and a random condom in the cash register.

The adrenaline was getting to his head, stirring up usually dormant worries. He couldn’t stop glancing down at his hands. They were warm tan, patterned at random with lighter splotches. He had a condition known as vitiligo which made areas of his skin lose their pigmentation. For the majority of the time, it wasn’t a big deal; the worst part was the weird looks people gave him and even then, he could usually brush them off. Still, there was always the occasional idiot who felt the need to say something rude or inform him that he showed signs of demon possession. He hoped beyond everything that one of those incidents didn’t occur while he was alone in the store.

Thankfully, the only customers for the next few hours were a couple groups of teenagers at varying levels of intoxication and a traveling family made up of two parents suffering from highway-hypnosis and a small child who tried to climb into one of the drink refrigerators.

By one in the morning, the flow of incoming patrons had completely stopped. By that point James had already thrown back an entire 5-hour Energy drink and reorganized the chip rack— twice .

When the entry bell finally rang again at around two, James’ head was buzzing so badly he wasn’t sure if he had imagined the sound or not. A young man walked in— college aged with messy hair and glasses. He disappeared into the rows of brightly coloured plastic bags without a word and so quickly it made James once again question whether or not he was hallucinating.

It wasn’t until the man had made his way back to the counter, setting down a bag of chips and a couple energy drinks, that James was sure he existed. The man’s hair looked like it hadn’t been brushed in two days and his dark circles were so deep they could be seen from beneath his squared glasses. Yup, definitely a college student.  

Despite the obvious signs of exhaustion, the man was undeniably pretty. Counter to his tired scowl, his eyes were bright and alert, framing a sharp nose. The way he kept his strong chin tilted slightly upwards and walked with purpose gave him the appearance of someone who actually knew what he was doing with his life— so basically, the opposite of James.

James was hardly ever self conscious about his appearance but this man— this stupidly pretty, oddly perfect man— made James squirm just a little bit, made him wonder if he was living on one side of some scale while the customer lounged on the other side. James tried to shrugged it off, focusing on the items in front of him instead.

The man spent the entire interaction at the counter muttering to himself and never once making eye contact. It was a little strange, but he was cute and James was bored so he decided to just appreciate the entertainment while it lasted.

It wasn’t until James went to hand the man his receipt that he seemed to even become aware of James’ existence. James held out the thin slip of paper, apparently causing the man to flinch backwards. His reaction was strong enough to make James wonder if he was one of those people— the type that thought vitiligo was some sort of deadly, contagious disease.

His eyes darted up quickly, his gaze sharp as it scanned over James’ face, “You’re not the normal cashier.”

He was taken aback by the accusing tone in the man’s voice, “No, I guess I’m not? I just got hired; the other guy got let off… something about trying to steal the plunger.”

“Oh,” His face transformed into a noncommittal scowl that James simply could not read, “Expect me regularly.”

The man turned on his heels and walked briskly to the door as James stood frozen and mystified behind the counter, “Oh, uh… see you soon then.”

——————

James woke up to the smell of something burning. He didn’t even remember dragging himself home and collapsing in his bed but based on the smell bothering him he evidently had made it back. No one could burn food quite like his roommate.

“Remus what the fuck are you doing?” James shuffled out to the kitchen where his roommate was poking at something on the stove.

“Making lunch.”

Based on his bed head and near-complete lack of clothes (Remus always slept in booty shorts and nothing else) James could guess that he had woken up only a few minutes earlier himself, “Dude that does not smell like anything humans should eat.”

Remus gave him a wicked grin and James decided not to push the subject. He walked out of the room with a sigh and hoped that the smell would clear up soon.

He made his way into the living room, sitting down and flipping open his laptop. James groaned at the lack of new email notifications. No new emails meant no new job acceptions.

“Guess I’m working the night shift again.”

James was grateful he got the job at the convenience store— no question. Getting a job as a college dropout was both necessary and nearly impossible at the same time. He was lucky to get a job at all and being a graveyard shift, he got paid nearly double the normal wage for his position. For now, his sleep schedule would just have to suffer.

——————

The weeks drifted by and James fell into a dull, but easy rhythm. He would go to work every night, spend the hours rearranging chip bags, guarding the plunger, and— if he was lucky— the pretty college boy would come in for a few minutes to grab salty food and a caffeinated drink.

James wasn’t sure when it became “lucky” for the man to come into the store. Maybe it was lucky because he was entertaining, always preoccupied and wandering around the store like his mind was a hundred miles away. He had this odd sort of duality— somehow both spaced out and intensely focused at the same time. It was like he was concentrating on the dimension beyond the one James was living in. He floated through this world, always preoccupied with world in his head. It was endearing and intriguing and James found himself looking forward to seeing the man. James wanted to see the world inside his head, to know what was so captivating that he had no use or interest for what was outside of it.  

The student was quickly becoming his favourite customer— something James never thought he would have— and he genuinely enjoyed having a chance to talk to the other guy. He was handsome, obviously intelligent, and, if given the chance, James definitely would’ve asked him out for a drink.

As it was though, James looked awful in his uniform so he would never have the confidence to make a move the only times he ever saw him.

James started to watch for him. The man came at least once a week, always between midnight and four in the morning. He must have lived nearby because he always walked over instead of taking a car like most of the other patrons. Either that, or he lived further away and walked all the way just for a bag of chips and an energy drink.

It was a Thursday like any other when he walked into the store and James’ curiosity got the better of him.

“So,” James leaned across the counter as the man sat his items down, “you come around here often?”

He tilted his head quizzically, “Yes? I do come here often? You’ve seen me.”

“No I— it was a joke,” James resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. This was… not going the way James would have hoped, “What’s your name? We might as well get on first name basis since we see each other all the time.”

“I’m Logan,” Logan seemed surprised by the question.

“I’m James.”

Logan gave a curt nod, “I know.”

“But— how? I—“

“It’s on your name tag,” And with that, Logan turned and marched out of the store.

——————

Logan laid on his back, arms and legs spread over the entirety of his bed. The only leftover space of the bed was occupied by Patton, one of his housemates.

“So how did the all-nighter go?”

Logan groaned, “Well… it sure as hell did go all night. I’m so fucking tired.”

“This is what you get for viewing the entire American university system as a challenge.”

He squinted up at Patton. With his blond hair and round, smiling face he looked like the direct inversion of whatever pale little zombie Logan currently felt like, “I gotta stop staying up so late.”

“I don’t know, you kind of seem to like it,” His housemate patted his leg and stood up to walk out of Logan’s room, “By the way, where do you keep going? I hear you leaving the house, like, super early all the time.”

Sunlight was streaming through his partially open blinds. It was probably quite pretty but to Logan it just looked like a headache-inducing glare. He threw a pillow over his face, muffling his voice as he answered, “Booty call.”

Patton laughed as he stopped walking, “Yeah right. The day you answer a booty call is the day I will shave my head.”

Logan shifted the pillow slightly to look at Patton again. The man’s hair was his prize possession, like a curly fluffy cloud that he kept as a pet on top of his head. Logan didn’t know how Patton could afford the time and money he put into his hair. What he did know, however, was that Patton would never risk its safety. Logan frowned in (mostly) fake insult, “You really think there’s not a single person who would send me a horny text at three in the morning?”

“Nah I think there are quite a few people who would do that. I just doubt there’s anyone you’d actually find worth answering.”

Was there anyone he would actually answer? Logan stared up at the dark fabric above him. The pillowcase was a deep navy blue and if he really squinted, he could see the weave of the thread, a thousand random threads coming together to make a greater whole. The way the individual pieces created something far larger than themselves was fascinating to Logan. He had never given it much before, but he couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever find a random individual worth making something together.

In the darkness covering his eyes, a vision of the convenience store cashier flashed across his mind. The face he saw was light brown and across that warm canvas, lighter portions sprawled. For the first time, Logan began really thinking about that face. He had sharp features, tired eyes, and when he smiled with lips sloped upwards at a lopsided angle. His skin reminded Logan of the glossy photos of nebulae in his astronomy textbooks— bright splashes breaking up the sameness of the night sky. How had he never noticed that before? What was his name? James.

He heard the creak of their old floors beneath Patton as he walked out of Logan’s room. He probably thought Logan had fallen asleep as he lay there in silence. He was far from asleep, though. His mind was racing, trying to find the missed connections and continually finding new ones in the process. His eyes flickered as previously unrecognized thoughts began surfacing. And they didn’t stop. How had he never noticed?

“I’ve been going to that convenience store down the street,” Logan called as Patton walked away.

James.

Maybe there was someone for him.

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[worldwidemochiguy]

Expecting (Yandere! Hoseok)

➵ When you found out you were pregnant, you were shocked to say the least. How could this happen? You were on birth control, or so you thought. What shocked you the most, however, was your boyfriend’s reaction...

➵ Pairing: Yandere! Hobi x Reader 

➵ Warnings: Yandere Hoseok, Slight Violence, Forced Pregnancy, Manipulation, Unhealthy Relationships

➵ Word Count: 2K

➵ Masterlist :)

The cashier grinned at you excitedly as she scanned the pregnancy test, an expression you could only respond to with a repressed grimace. 

“So, what are you hoping for?” She chirped, clearly thinking you were excited about this development in your personal life. 

“Huh?

“Boy or girl?” You looked down at your fingers, toying with your (Hoseok’s) credit card awkwardly, avoiding the probing questions. The cashier seemed to realise your lack of enthusiasm a moment too late. You felt her gaze rest incriminatingly on your empty left hand. 

She silently scanned the rest of your items: a chocolate bar and a tube of toothpaste you had grabbed just so that the single purchase wasn’t too conspicuous. You tried not to feel too judged. Tried, and failed.

The shame pressed heavily on you as you trudged home, incriminating bag weighing down your steps. Realistically, you knew you had no reason to be ashamed. The whole idea of having to be married before having kids was antiquated, and anyway you were in a stable, loving relationship with your boyfriend. 

You wished you had just bit the bullet and bought two pregnancy tests as soon as you realised you had missed your period. You had been so scared and willingly stubborn, refusing to buy more than one as if buying multiple would be an admittance that you were pregnant. 

But after receiving one positive result, you had forced yourself to return to the store and buy another, resulting in that mortifying encounter with that cashier. It wasn’t like you were likely to ever see her again but… you couldn’t get her judgemental gaze out of your mind. 

You imagined that gaze mirrored in your friends’ eyes, in your families eyes, in strangers eyes as they watched you carry an illegitimate child in your womb. You just didn’t understand. You had been so careful. 

You always made sure to take your birth control pills each morning. Every morning. If you ever forgot, you made sure you didn’t have sex for at least a week, despite Hoseok’s fervent complaints. You had even tried to get your boyfriend to wear condoms as another layer of protection, but he had flat-out refused, stating that he wanted to be able to feel you properly. 

You wrung your hands together, steps quickening as another wave of anxiety flooded your system. Hoseok. What would he say about it? Would he blame you? It must have been your fault after all, you must have somehow taken your birth control incorrectly. What if he left you? What if he abandoned you and your friends left you and your family left you and everyone-

“Sunshine!”

Strong arms surrounded you and pulled you into a warm chest. Your boyfriend’s joyous face beamed down at you as you tried to gain your bearings, panic still lingering unpleasantly in your system. 

“I saw your note saying you had left for the store and decided to come and see if you needed any help with your bags. It’s lucky I caught you in front of our building, huh?” 

You looked around and realised that you had made it all the way back to your apartment building without even realising it. While you were distracted, Hoseok took your bag.

“Let me carry that for you, sunshine. Can’t have my baby carrying things for herself!” 

You gave him a strangled smile, not contradicting him because you didn’t want him to notice what, exactly, he was carrying. Your previous worries were still shouting over each other in your head. 

You panicked silently as Hoseok led you back to the apartment, dumping the bag on the counter. After that, unexpectedly, he stopped right in front of you and turned, causing you to bump into his front. 

“Careful, sunshine.” Hoseok chided you fondly, arms coming up to support you as you stumbled. “You have to be even more careful of your safety now, remember?”

“Aha, yes, of course- wait, what?” Your eyes widened as Hoseok gave you a knowing smile. Surely, there’s no way he could have realised… right?

“I found the test in the trash, baby.” 

Your heart stopped. 

“You know we share a bathroom, right? Literally all I had to do was look down.” 

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, the words muffled as you buried your face in your hands. You heard an incredulous laugh, and a second later his arms were wrapped around you once again. 

“What are you sorry for? Sunshine, this is a blessing.” You stiffened in his arms out of shock. What? He was actually happy about it? That was some relief, at least. 

“It is?” 

“Are you kidding me? Of course it is!” He crowed, twirling you around so unexpectedly that you couldn’t help but laugh along with him. “It’ll be the family we always wanted! The one we’ve been trying for!”

The euphoria of knowing you had your boyfriend’s support distracted you for a second, stopping his words from sinking in. But, after a moment, you paused.

“What do you mean, Hoseok? We haven’t been trying for a family? I take birth control…” You trailed off at the sight of his guilty smile. A horrible realisation seeped into the pit of your stomach. 

“Hobi…?” Your voice was uncertain, but Hoseok didn’t seem to realise your discomfort, or if he did, he didn’t really care.

“You know how much I love kids, sunshine. And you know how much I love you, I just… I want us to be a family.” 

“W-What did you do?” You stammered, and he twirled his fingers nervously. 

“I… might have… switched your birth control tablets?”

Oh God.

“We’ve been dating for four months!” You yelled at him, and he blanched. “I only just moved in with you, and you decide you can control what I do with my body?” 

“Don’t say it like that, sunshine!” Hoseok implored, moving towards you with arms outspread even as you backed away. 

“We may have only started dating recently, but I know you’re the one for me. Why wait to start the rest of our lives?”

“You’re a psychopath.” You breathed, moving away from him until your back was pressed against the wall. Hoseok hovered in front of you, clearly not knowing what else to say. “I can’t believe you fucking switched my birth control. What is wrong with you?”

His eyes flashed dangerously. 

“Now, now, sunshine. I understand you’re scared about this, and that’s okay, but don’t say things you don’t mean. You love me.” 

“I don’t.” You whispered, suppressing a whimper when he scowled. “I thought I loved you, but I don’t. I don’t know who you are anymore.”

“I’m the father of your child.” He snarled, gripping your wrist and tugging you forcefully towards the bathroom, snagging the bag from the store off the counter as he went. His sudden change in demeanour cowed you into submission. “And you’re going to apologise, and then you’re going to take this fucking test.” 

His grip on your arm was punishing.

“You’re hurting me,” You murmured, and he grunted in response, his hold not abating. “Think of the baby.” You added and his grip loosened immediately. 

He turned to you once you reached the doorway of the bathroom and gave you a tired smile. The one he used to give you at the end of the day before you both fell into bed and snuggled until you fell asleep. You tried to not let it affect you. 

“I’m sorry, sunshine, you’re right. I should be more careful with you now that you’re carrying something so precious and delicate. I’m glad to see you care about our baby so much.” He cupped your cheek lovingly, and for a second you forgot what he had done, forgot that he had betrayed your trust and taken your body for his own.

You leaned into his caress with a sigh and he hummed, pleased. He leaned in to press his forehead to yours, placing a chaste kiss on your cupid’s bow.

“I know you’re scared about this, baby. I know it’s a big change. But I also know that we can handle it. We are going to be the best parents in the whole world, I promise. Now go and take the test.”

He didn’t let you shut the bathroom door, but politely looked away as you conducted your business and waited until you had wrapped the used test in tissues and washed your hands.

You cleared your throat.

“Uhm, I- uh, it’s done?” 

No sooner had you finished your sentence before Hoseok swept into the room and into his arms, being careful not to squeeze you too tightly. 

“Oh, Sunshine, I’m so excited! I can imagine us as parents already!”

“You know,” you laughed nervously, “I might… not actually be pregnant. The first one could have been a false positive.”

His arms went rigid. 

“You are pregnant.” He stated, as if he refused to believe anything else. “You are pregnant, because you’re my perfect girl, and I know you’d never disappoint me like that.” 

“Hoseok-” You started, pulling away from him, but he didn’t let you go, clamping onto your wrists.

“You are pregnant. And if you aren’t, then you will be soon.” His face had become horrifyingly solemn. You whimpered as his nails started to dig into your skin. 

“H-Hobi, I’m not even sure if I want to have kids-” 

He raised his hand to strike you and you flinched back, one arm coming up to shield your face, the other protecting your stomach, and he softened immediately. 

“I’m sorry, sunshine, I just-” He sighed as you continued to cower from him, tugging you into his arms again regardless of your yelp of fear.

“You just aren’t getting it. Of course, I would’ve liked to marry you first before having kids, but I knew you might be a little silly about it. That’s why I decided we should get pregnant first. Now you definitely can’t leave me — because I know you’d never be that selfish and deprive your child of a father — and we can get married!”

You repressed the urge to struggle in his arms as he continued to describe his deluded visions. “You’ll look so stunning, sunshine, just think of it. You all in white, glowing, your belly swollen with my child, so everyone can see you’re mine. I’ve been thinking about it for years.” 

“Y-Years?” You laughed weakly, hoping he couldn’t sense your terror.

“Well, you don’t think our first meeting was by chance, right?” He chuckled, as if he were discussing some trivial matter, “So naïve, baby. I’ve just been waiting for the right moment. Doesn’t that make you feel special?” 

“Uh huh,” You replied, your voice strained. God, he was a psychopath. You were carrying the child of a psychopath. And listening to him plan your future wedding.

“You don’t know how happy I am that you’re finally pregnant, I’ve been getting quite impatient. After swapping out your pills for all those months… I was going to start taking… drastic measures pretty soon.” Hoseok laughed, pulling back to gaze at your face with twinkling eyes. 

If he saw the dread in your expression, he didn’t remark on it, just giving you his trademark heart-shaped smile. 

“Now, sunshine, let’s confirm what we already know, let me see the test!”

You took the tissue-wrapped stick off the rim of the sink, slowly peeling away the layers to reveal the damning results. You held your breath, not knowing what result to hope for. If you weren’t pregnant, you had no idea what Hoseok would do to you, but if you were…

The tissue paper slowly fell away, revealing a single blue strip. Negative. 

[theblekromantik]

somewhere new

Erik Stevens x Black Reader

a/n: hello lovelies, i hope you’re well and i hope that you enjoy this! i’ve been experimenting with writing lately, so any feedback would be greatly appreciated!!!

summary: you and Erik go decide to go grocery shopping, but you switch things up a little

warnings: fluff-ish with some sexual tension and implied smut

word count: 3189

A booming,

“Yo, ma!”

Accompanied by a knock at the door rattles you, causing you to drop your eyelash into the sink. Your good, very expensive eyelash that requires much focus in order to be applied to your upper lash line.

Grunting and twinging your face in disgust of the sight before you, you fish it out of the sink, blowing on it to determine if the glue is still salvageable.

“Come on, E! Five minutes!” You respond with your mouth slightly parted, a strange requirement for impeccable eyelash placement.

“Princess, we gotta hurry up before the store closes,” Erik protests, pulling up his sleeve to check his diamond-encrusted AP watch. It’s almost seven o’clock, and Erik hated shopping minutes before a store closed. It made him feel like he was being rushed to gather his items and head to the register.

You and Erik frequently ran errands together, only this time you were grocery shopping. Staying in was nice and all – really quite enjoyable – but an end had to come to the endless Netflix bingeing and takeout from your favorite spots. You both, mainly Erik, decided that it was time for a nutritious, home-cooked meal, one that wouldn’t lead you down a road of clogged arteries and hypertension. But Erik was a phenomenal chef, so you could hardly complain that your ongoing DoorDash expenditure had been interrupted.

“Damn! One second!” You holler. “One second…there.”

You step back and look into the mirror, admiring yourself. Thirty minutes of hard work and determination had really paid off! You grab your phone from the sink’s surface and proceed to snap some photos of yourself.

SHUTTER! SHUTTER! SHUTTER! SHUTTER!

Beauty must always be captured, no matter what the time restraint.

“Princess! You taking pictures in there?” The dreaded man pounds on the door, harder this time. Banging, nearly shaking the hinges out of the door until you swing it open.

And there you are, dolled up and all, from the 26-inch deep wave hair to the Adidas tracksuit, the top zipped down nearly to the level of exposing the full extent of your breasts. Just the way you liked it.

Erik can hardly contain himself as he looks further down at you, ogling how your recently-manicured toes fit perfectly between each slot of your sandals. Man, he knew you were one for dressing up, but to the grocery store? Maybe he needs to step his game up.

“Well?” You jest. “You were so loud banging on the door, you got nothing to say now?”

Catching his lip underneath his teeth, he smugly looks you over once more, trying to gather words to say, for you’ve left him speechless.

He inches closer to you, “My babygirl likes to talk back, huh?”

“Yup, she do,” Boldness courses through you, nearly shattered as you maintain eye contact with your boyfriend.

His eyes were boulders, but you were just as unyielding. This game the two of you liked to play – this perpetual exchange of power – rarely ever ended with you emerging victorious. And you knew this, but you wanted to have your fun.

Finally, though smirkingly, you divert your gaze to your phone, shuffling through your gallery to decide which photos to keep, which photos to delete, and which photos to post.

“You look beautiful, Princess,” Erik chuckles after pressing a kiss onto your lips. “Now let’s go.”

While you knew you had lost the battle in the bathroom, you couldn’t wait to enjoy the war you and Erik would have in the bedroom later.

–

“Shotgun!” Erik shouted as you were fumbling in your purse for your keys, making a sprint for the car through your apartment complex’s parking lot.

The sun was setting beneath the horizon, and it illuminated the sky a burnt orange, a hue that began to embellish the surfaces of each object it touched – buildings, vehicles, windows, trees, the reflective skin of Erik’s custom-designed Air Max 97s as he raced further away from you.

After some time, your nimble fingers reach the item of your search, which results in a chime. You pull the keys out, contemplating whether to unlock the car doors for dreaded man in order to relieve him from the heat of the California sun, or let him suffer. Though it was setting, this sun still could extract a cup of sweat from one’s body. But hey, Erik was grown, he could wait.

You strut up to the car to see your boyfriend leaning on the door, panting, condensation forming on his forehead.

You release a sound of triumph, “I was gonna drive anyway.”

The car unlocks with a chirp, and you open the door and sit down. Dumbfounded, Erik was clutching the hood of the car still, trying to catch his breath.

“You getting in, or…”

He opens the car door and slumps down into the seat.

“You didn’t have to have a nigga looking dumb, baby.”

“I don’t think you need me for that, E.”

Erik snickers, “So it’s like that?”

“Yeah, it’s like that,” you tease, pressing the car to start and reversing out of the lot.

The two of you were buckling in for a long evening, and quite frankly, you couldn’t wait to see how it would progress.

–

As you drive on the road, the city and all its structures – both new and old – vanish behind you as a multitude of cool currents of air whip into the car through the windows, blowing your hair in all sorts of directions.

The vehicle vibrates as you blast a playlist full of new releases through your aux, and Erik grips your thigh as he sings to you, gold canines flashing and all.

You gently place your foot on the break, easing the car to a stop before the upcoming red light.

Erik, nearly louder than the music, starts to grind on the seat à la Magic Mike, and you couldn’t help but to laugh at the dreaded man and his silliness, a behaviour that is a pleasant break from his usual brooding nature.

But your laughter is cut short by a car honking behind you, indicating that the light had just turned green. You roll your eyes, because it had literally just turned green, and you press on the gas, revving your vehicle to the speed limit.

You pass another number of buildings a before making a sharp left turn.

“Shit!” You mumble to yourself.

You had almost missed the turn.

“Babygirl, that wasn’t the turn. Where we going?” Erik questions, for the route you’re taking was not your usual one.

“A little change of plans. I wanted to go somewhere else this time.”

“’Somewhere else’?” Erik probes. “What’s wrong with Ralph’s?!”

Now this took Erik by surprise. He’s genuinely concerned about your decision. To him, Ralph’s is King.

“Nothing, just wanna try something different.”

Your boyfriend clutches his heart, feigning a heart attack. You snort and turn into the parking lot. Both the wind and the car’s engine settle as you drive into a spot and press the vehicle off.

“Trader Joe’s?!” Erik cries. “What they got up in there?”

You exit the car, grabbing your purse from the backseat. “Stop complaining. Let’s go.”

–

If boredom could be personified, it’s spitting image would be Erik, for he rests his forearms on the bar of the shopping cart, eyes drooping as he observes the eccentric packaging of Trader Joe’s products.

Picking up a container of salsa he says, “Why all this shit organic?”

But you just suck your teeth and let him sulk behind the cart, ignoring him and all his grumbling.

“And this,” His gaze sets upon another display, “Who the fuck needs all these types of dried fruit? Probably taste like tumbleweed anyway.”

“Yo, stop moaning and groaning over there,” You shoot back at him, grabbing two packages of dried mangoes and placing them into the cart.

But Erik persists, dragging his feet across the smooth, concrete floor.

Minding the grocery list you and Erik had created earlier on your phone, you head deeper into the produce section, searching for some leafy greens and other ingredients that would contribute toward Erik’s signature salad. He walks off with the cart, gathering some tomatoes and bell peppers before making his way into another section of the store.

You, on the other hand, stand in front of the illuminated display with every type of green you could think of: arugula, kale, spinach, and lettuce, just to name a few. Reaching in, you squish some of the bags in order to determine their freshness. And you grab some kale and return to your shopping partner, who was waiting patiently for you, his previous protesting done with.

Looking down at the list on your phone, there wasn’t that much left for you all to grab, just some seasonings that were essential for the completion of any dish. There’re so many to choose from, and quite frankly, you’d just grab them all if you weren’t on a budget. So, you place a couple in the cart. And when you look up again, there Erik is, a pouty look on his face.

“Birthday cake popcorn?” Erik suggests, holding up the multicoloured item.

“Put it in the cart,” You giggle, maneuvering to a checkout line with the least amount of people.

The line becomes shorter and shorter, with customers paying and leaving with their large brown bags. And before you know it, the cashier shouts, “Next!” and moves to take your cart.

“Find everything okay?” The cashier asks, briefly glancing up at the two of you before moving to scan the items in your cart.

“Yes, thank you,” you respond, blankly staring as more items appeared on the customer screen and the worker transferred your groceries into the bags adjacent to the register.

Erik, standing beside you, wraps his right pinky finger against your left one, linking the two of you before you adjust to hold his entire hand. He grips your waist and pulls you in to kiss your lips and lingers there for a short while, eyes boring into yours while also relishing the traces of your chocolate-flavoured lip gloss that had found its way to onto his tongue.

You’re flustered, of course, but not because he hadn’t kissed you this intensely before, but because you were reminded that you were still at the grocery store, for the cashier cleared their throat awkwardly, repeating the total cost you had missed in your fleeting moment of passion.

Scratching your neck, hoping to relieve the embarrassment that that crept up your spine, you ask, “I’m sorry, how much is it?”

To which the cashier responds, “That’s $43.96.”

“I got it, bae,” Erik interjects, pulling out his wallet and handing a crisp yet folded fifty-dollar bill to the worker.

And while the cashier hands Erik the change, you grab the red cart and head toward the exit but not before thanking them. A few steps behind, Erik acknowledges another cashier – the only Black cashier – with a head nod and a knowing smile, to which the cashier nods, shrugs, and returns the grin: the shared feeling of being the only Black person in the room. The automatic doors open, reintroducing the cool evening air upon your face and hair, and the rubber wheels of the cart greet the smooth pavement.

When you reach the cart return, Erik grabs all of the bags while you fit the cart among the lines of carts already present. The two of you begin to walk to your parked vehicle but instead accidentally stumble upon on one with a similar make and model to your own but was not yours.

“I swore I parked right here,” you huff, standing on the balls of your feet, searching the sea of identical cars in the well-lit parking lot. And the fact that there were so many other last-minute shoppers did not help your plight either.

“Lemme see the keys,” Erik says, intrigue in his voice. “I wanna see something.”

You hand him the keys to the car, and he places them under his chin, pressing the unlock button repeatedly.

“That doesn’t actually work, does it?” You quiz, doubt heavy on your words.

“We have to see.”

Supposedly, this little trick should increase the bandwidth of the key’s signal, using one’s head as a sort of antenna. But after a couple clicks, you hear nothing besides traffic on the neighbouring streets.

Pointless, you think, just wanting to hurry up and head home.

But then, you hear a series of chirps in the distance and Erik yipping about the fact.

“Over there,” Erik says, nodding his head toward the source of the noise.

He picks up the bags, and you both head to the vehicle.

–

Shutting the door to your car, you release a sigh. Finally, the bags are all placed on the floor of your car, and you can finally head home.

With your foot on the break, you reach to push the car to start but then Erik yelps, “Wait! I wanna try those mango joints.”

“Oh, now you wanna try them,” You jest, “Because if I can remember, you were just–”

“–Man,” Erik interrupts, reaching to the backseat and rummaging through the bags. “Found it.”

He surveys the clear package titled “Soft & Juicy Mango” with his eyebrows furrowed and his lips curled, a slight repugnance that he couldn’t even help hide. But ripping the bag open, his expression softens as the aroma fills his nostrils, the sweet, tropical scent soothing him.

You watch, rolling your eyes, as Erik cautiously lowers his fingers into the package. One would think that the former Navy Seal wouldn’t be so dramatic over something like trying a new food, but Erik never ceases to amaze you.

Mango slice in hand, Erik purses his lips as he brings it to his mouth, slowly. Tortuously. And chews, his head cocked to the side.

“Wait,” he says as he swallows the last bit. “These bitches smack!”

You release a sound of disbelief, start the vehicle, and pull into the street, heading home. Of course the mangoes were delicious.

–

The sound of the car door closing can be heard as you and Erik finish grabbing all the groceries and head to the entrance of your apartment building. Your boyfriend opens the door for you, his veiny forearm braced on it and towering above you as you enter.

“Damn, ma! You getting thick!” He hollers as he watches the sway of your hips in your fitted bottoms.

You feel your cheeks warm up as you push some hair behind your air. You had been getting thick.

The lobby as you pass through is empty except for the security guard looking down at a glow coming from their lap and a couple of young people with white wires cascading down from their ears, bopping their heads to music that you can hear but not quite make out specific lyrics.

You and Erik find your way inside the elevator, the flickering fluorescents easing you back home, a stark difference from the glaringly bright ones at Trader Joe’s. Erik presses the round “4”, and the aluminum doors begin to close before you, you staring ahead while Erik sneaks a glance at you, smirking before redirecting his gaze toward the sliding metal.

Watching the line of numbers flash as the lift ascends from the ground floor, you turn to Erik, kissing him softly on the lips, closing your eyes and feeling a tingling sensation coursing into him through you. An electrical current that ceases to meet its end, ravishing you both entirely.

And with a ding, the elevator doors open and there you and Erik are, standing chest to chest in the moment, biting your lips like a couple of anxious teenagers on a first date. You pull away from him, keys in hand, heading for the apartment while Erik watches you.

God, how did he get so lucky? You were a treasure to him, and not only because you were so extraordinary but the little things: how you treated him so tenderly and with love yet wouldn’t hesitate to call him out when he was acting like a fool, and how you were so receptive to him as he was to you. These were all things that he scarcely experienced, if he ever experienced them at all. You helped him learn how to love and to receive love, which is an astonishing feat that many cannot confess that they’ve accomplished for themselves. And as you look back at him and smile while you unlock the door, he feels a bit weak in the knees, your electricity overwhelming him once more. You’ve got him hooked, and he loves it. He’s entirely entranced by you, and he doesn’t mind.

You open the door and are welcomed by your apartment, which is completely shrouded in darkness, save for the streetlights, the headlights of passing cars, and the last sliver of the orange evening sky before it is overcome by those distant stars in the night sky.

“Whew,” you exhale, flipping on the light switch and opening the door wider.

Erik sets the bags down on the countertops and approaches you.

“What are you–” you begin, but Erik is sliding his arms around your midsection and turning you to him. He presses his forehead against yours, twirling the ends of your hair and breathes you in and attaches his lips to yours, gently, truly wanting to savour this moment and you in this moment.

He pulls away, slowly, and confesses for the first time aloud, “I love you,” in a voice no louder than a whisper in a public library, to which you respond, “I love you, too.”

And the two of you remain like this for a few moments, staring into each other’s eyes, not even letting the ever-busy late-night traffic rattle you.

“So,” he starts, “About earlier in the bathroom…”

“Yeah, what about it?” You respond, seduction laced in your words.

“I’m thinking we need to address that.”

“Oh, do you?”

“Yup,” Erik answers, popping the “p”.

“And what about the groceries?”

“They’ll be a’ight.”

“Hm,” You sound, lacing your hand with his and walking the both of you to your shared bedroom.

Erik walks towards you, making you both fall on the bed. And the dreaded man begins pecking at your neck, travelling up to the bone of your jaw and landing once again on your plump lips. He swipes his finger down them, and repeats, “I love you.”

You stand up to close the door, while Erik sits up, waiting on you to return to him. You cradle his head in your hands while you kiss him, deeper, all that former tenderness left at the door. And stripping him of his shirt, his impatient fingers also dance to the zipper of your top, lowering it. He slides the jacket over your shoulders as you kneel on the bed to straddle him. But before you could grind down on his crotch, Erik grips your hips and flips you onto your back, the sudden movement bouncing your body on the bed after it meets the comforter.

“Not so fast, babygirl.”

[hitsuackerman]

Why Did It Have to be Him? pt. 4 (Aizawa x Reader)

a/n: sorry this got delayed :( this was supposed to be uploaded a lot earlier but then my laptop is basically dead at this point huhuhu legit waited for 30mins just for the chrome to stop lagging T.T welp... thank quirks for company laptops XD

that being said... here is part 4 for our Daddyzawa! <3

ps. i had to put an age for this fic :3 so you are 17 as the rest are 16 xD

Warnings: Student-Teacher relationship, Age-gap, Cursing, Not so subtle flirting

Link: Part 1, Part 2, part 3, part 5

Materlist for my other fics :) here

All aboard the Aizawa-train!: @yukiimanic​ @leeeah-loooser​

A few days have passed and you were now fully settled in your dorm. There wasn’t much to it but Aizawa managed to persuade you to buy new sheets and curtains to match. You weren’t exactly sure why but you complied nonetheless.

Monochromatic that’s how you liked things. Since he gave you full control as to what colors you could choose, you simply went for black.Of course, you made sure that a pop of color would add life to your room. A few trinkets here and there, your room looked good to go. Simplicity is key, that’s what you kept reminding yourself.

But it was rather ironic how your “love life” wasn’t as simple. It was much easier to see him back in your house. Now that you were living only a mere block away from the teacher’s dorm, it only made things much harder. Though, you understood, it was still frustrating not being able to see him as much as you wanted.

While doing your assignments, your phone rang. Not bothering to see who the caller was, you picked it up. Slowly, the corners of your mouth turned upwards. Right on schedule.

“Not disturbing anything, am I?” He asked. In the background, you could hear the keyboard’s soft tapping.

“Nope. I’m just about finished here.” Gathering your books and papers, you neatly stacked and put them away. Looking at the time, there was still 45 minutes before curfew starts. “I am hungry though, so I might have to run to the nearest convenient store~”

“Isn’t the fridge stacked with snacks, though?” The typing sounds had stopped and you heard a soft grunt.

“It is but they don’t have those juice packs I like.” There was some risk to this but you wanted to see him. It was hard enough that all you could do inside the classroom was to sit and stare at him. “Of course, I’m not implying anything. I do plan on leaving in about 5 minutes or so.”

“Do as you please, (Y/N).” He let out a soft chuckle before hanging up the call.

Grabbing your sweatshirt and wallet, you silently exited your room. Thankfully, the majority of rooms had their lights on. And, technically, it wasn’t curfew so you could still manage to buy a few snacks the dorm’s fridge had to offer. Shaking your head, you knew you couldn’t fool yourself.

Ever since the kiss, he became even more intoxicating. His musky scent and how you felt his arms wrapping around your small stature (compared to his at least) was addicting. It was a picture hard to forget, him straddling you in the comforts of your bed. The strands of his soft hair caging you from the outside world. Or maybe it was how his hot breath brushed your cheeks that made things even more irresistible? Closing the doors to the building, you were met with the row of streetlights. Each of them casting enough light to ensure safety to those who would walk the streets at this time of night. Of course, everyone knew this area was safe, afterall, only an idiot villain would dare attack near UA.

A little further and you could see the neon sign of the convenience store. Near the entrance, a man caught your eye. He was wearing an all black ensemble and his grayish pale skin made him look unreal. Yet, the all too familiar bun caused your heart to race.

Upon seeing your figure approaching his, he could feel the smirk forming on his mouth. It had only been a few hours since he last saw you but it was inside classroom settings. The secret glances you two would give each other was fun but he somehow wanted more. When you passed by him, he could make out the faint smell of your lingering body lotion. Very stimulating to the senses.

Trailing behind you, his eyes began to linger all over your back. Sure, you had a sweatshirt on but in his eyes you looked too good not to hug. When you turned towards the small aisle for chips, he glanced at the ceiling. The cameras were on the other side of the store. As you were choosing what junk to munch on, he leaned forward and rested his head on your shoulder.

Jumping at the sudden sensation of his warmth radiating on your cheek, all the heat travelled upwards as your eyes met his. The dullness to them now replaced with a hint of playfulness. His calloused hand began to brush yours. Slowly making their way up before he let go to grab a bag for himself.

Once again, your stomach felt all the butterflies going crazy with his touch. Chewing on your lower lip, you let out a shaky sigh as he lifted his head. Slowly walking away without looking back.

Such a tease.

Two can play that little game, you thought.

Aizawa made his way towards the refreshments. Searching for the perfect drink to pair with his chips, he settled for a can of beer. It wasn’t allowed but he could easily sneak it in knowing it was almost curfew. In his peripheral version, he could see you choosing as well. Following your hands, he saw how you had just chosen a can of soda.

“Got everything you need?” He asked.

“Not yet. I need some chocolate.” Pulling him towards the aisle with chocolates, you saw your target. The one you had been craving for a week now. Scanning the area, you saw how the coast was clear and it was your turn to make your move. “Hey, can you hold these for a sec?”

Handing him your stuff, you turned around and began to tug on the hems of your sweatshirt. His eyebrows jumped at your small actions. When you began to strip off your sweatshirt. The heavy material lifted your undershirt quite a bit. A bit of your skin got exposed to the coldness the store had to offer.

The coldness had no effect on Aizawa. Instead, he felt heat growing in his system. His mouth suddenly felt dry. His finger twitched and his jaw clenched. The hold he had on the goods tightened. Upon seeing you bend down to grab a bar of chocolate, the neckline of your shirt was big enough to expose the black strap of your bra.

‘Behave, Shota.’ His mind scolded him. ‘This is the only line you should NOT cross. At least not yet.’

Through your peripheral vision, you could see just how much your plan had worked. His squinted eyes only gave away his deposition. Flicking your hair just as you faced him, you caught a hold of his stare and blinked innocently.

“What’s wrong,” You took a step forward as you got a hold of your things. “Shota?”

His eyebrow jerked and his mouth was now a desert. Not wanting for things to get out of hand, he walked past you and made his way to the counter. Every ounce of his concentration focused on not pinning you against the wall and giving the cashier a show. Biting the corner of his tongue he paid for his purchase and waited outside as you paid for yours.

“You okay, sensei?” The last word was rather breathy, just as you intended it to be. Seeing him controlling himself was rather fun. He was struggling and the signs were very subtle. The only thing giving him away were his twitching eyes and furrowed brows.

Grabbing the bag of food from you, he led the way back to campus grounds. His eyes scanning the area and taking note of the small cameras set up on the street lights. The both of you were now approaching a blind spot. Letting out a rather long sigh, he held on to your wrist and pulled you into the dimly lit area.

“Be quiet.” Aizawa instructed.

Your eyes widened as you began to realize what he was planning on doing. The cameras would surely pick all of that up but then again, if he knew the area well then it should be fine. Heart now racing, you chewed on your inner cheek as the both of you were now approaching the blind spot. The small alcove one of the buildings had.

Things were now a blur.

The small squeak that escaped your mouth as your back hit the wall was immediately muted when his lips crashed into yours. Literally taking your breath away, you eased into the kiss. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled the elastic band from his hair. On your tiptoes, you leaned on to his torso for support. Your knees were now barely functioning.

Knowing what was running through your thoughts, he bent down a little. His hands held tracing whatever curves your body had to offer. When you began to nibble on his lip, his hand grabbed your knee pit and lifted you. More than happy that you instantly clung your legs around his waist.

Tugging on his hair, he accidentally let out a small groan. Feeling your soft lips making their way towards his neck sent was enough for him to tighten his hold on you. The sucking sensation that followed made his member twitch and his pants tighten. A chill ran down his spine when your tongue trailed its way up to his jaw.

“Fuck...” He growled once your noses were touching once more. Running his tongue across your lip, you parted your mouth to give him entry. Tugging on your lower lip, he went back in with a much more long and thorough kiss. When he parted his lips from yours, his hot citrusy breath brushed your face. “Don’t tease me unless you know what you want, kitten.”

“Oops.” You brushed your nose against his. Your heavy lidded eyes hazy with need. The way he gave you a pet name hit differently. “My bad~”

The tips of his lips began to travel down your neck. Using his nose to move the neckline of your shirt, he licked a patch of your skin before biting on to it. The small moan echoing in his ears made curious. What other sounds could he make you do if he were given the chance?

‘This isn’t the right place, Shota.’ Once again his thoughts managed to save him from moving any further.

Pecking your lips once more, he put you down and patted your head. Despite the dimness, he could still see how flushed you were. Fixing himself, he looked at his watch and gestured that it was time to head back.

“Just in time for curfew~” You teased. “I won’t get in trouble now, right?”

“(Y/N).” He brushed his fingers with yours. The short contact the both of you shared was something his body still yearned for. “You are aware that you're still 17 right?”

“Yes.” Your step still had a certain hop to them. “And I’m aware that my birthday is coming up.”

“I’m not implying anything.” He handed your bag of food. Now giving a safe distance between you two. “I just want us to be careful. You’re still young.”

“Are you doubting?” The slight sadness in your voice was something you couldn’t hold back. “If it clears things up, I really am serious about you. I was shocked but elated that you were more than willing to try if things would work out. But, if you really don’t want to do this then I’ll back out. At least it’s still early and won’t hurt as much.”

“I never said I didn’t want to do it.” He stated. “What happened back there, I almost got carried away. I wouldn’t want you to regret this or… us.”

“Us?” The smile on your face was rather adorable for him. You felt your cheeks heating up at the confirmation that there really is something between you two and that it wasn’t just you carrying the feelings.

Lifting the corners of his mouth, he patted your head once more before picking his pace up. Ready to head back to the teacher’s dorms.

“Wait for my call later,” He glanced at you over his shoulder. A smirk on his face. “Kitten.”

“That I will, Aizawa-sensei.” You replied with a huge smile on your face.

Running back to the dorms, you carefully opened the doors. Making sure that no one was around, you snuck across the hall and took the stairs. The dimly lit hallway towards your room made things easier.

Moments later, you were now munching on chips. Your phone rang and for the rest of the night, till one of you finally caved in to slumber, Aizawa and you spent it on talking about whatever topics came to your mind.

At the end of call, both of you agreed that convenience stores would now be a recurring thing.

- - - - -

if you want to be tagged in part 5 :) feel free to leave a comment :)

[maandags]

What if Ben NEVER DIED and actually is crushing on the cute short chubby cashier from the store he visits almost every time and Klaus KNOWS. And tries to set them up?

“we need grapes,” Klaus declares. 

Ben sends him a strange look. “and why, pray tell, do we need grapes?”

“I just... I just feel it. I’m, like, craving grapes.”

“there’s a difference between you wanting grapes and us needing grapes.”

Klaus rolls his eyes, shoving Ben’s shoulder. He pokes out his tongue. “right, mom.”

shaking his head, Ben opens his mouth to tell his brother that if he wants grapes so bad, he should just go buy some, be my guest -- but then he realises where he is. and his eyes land on the sign a street away. “actually, you know what,” he says, “we can go get you some grapes.”

Klaus’ eyes immediately narrow. “that was fast. are you... are you sure?”

“better grapes than crack, mate.”

Klaus shrugs, and follows Ben as he bee-lines for the store entrance.

the tinkle as he swings the door open causes Ben’s stomach to flip. not uncomfortably, per sé. it’s more of a flip that says, oh god, here we go again. like the nerves that course through one’s system when just moments away from the very peak of a roller coaster; preparing for the excitement of the drop.

his eyes are immediately drawn to the registers, checking if you’re working (he knows you are -- or at least are supposed to be. he’s been to this store an embarrassing amount of times. he knows.) and only experiencing more stomach flips when this is in fact the case. Klaus, thankfully, is completely absorbed by the concept of grapes, and has already sailed towards the fruit stands.

he hasn’t even properly looked at you today yet. he just saw you were behind the register, and then walked off. it’s kind of weird, knowing you’re just a few steps away from him, and he’s known you for months -- and yet you don’t even know his name.

“green or purple?” 

“green,” he says mindlessly, craning his neck to get another glimpse of you over the line of people waiting to finalise their purchases.

“but I prefer purple.”

“then get purple ones, Klaus.”

“but you said green.”

Ben sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “what about both?”

Klaus grins. “excellent idea, brother dear.”

“anything else?”

he puckers his lips in thought. “I’ll get some tic tacs. at the register.”

“cool, then. let’s go.”

he looks awful, too. he’s wearing old jeans and an even older t-shirt. Ben looks down, plucking at the hem. it’s got holes in it, for Christ’s sake. not that he would dress up to go to the grocery store just because you happen to work there, but it would certainly not hurt if you saw him looking nicer than... whatever he has going on right now.

Klaus elbows him. “dude. that line is way shorter.” he points to the right, where there is in fact a way shorter line, counting maybe three people less than the one they’re currently standing in. 

Ben immediately goes red. “I mean -- does it matter?”

Klaus snorts. “no. I just thought it’d be quicker.” he narrows his eyes. “... does it matter to you?”

“no,” Ben lies, way too quickly. “no, I mean, it’s no big deal --” but then he makes the fatal mistake of nervously looking over at you. and, by some fucking miracle caused by some God above, you look at him, and his eyes meet yours for the briefest of seconds. recognition flashes in them, and you give him a polite smile before going back to the customer you’re currently helping along.

Klaus’ eyes narrow even further. “oh.” he looks over at you as well, standing on his tippy toes to get a good look. “oh. I see.”

Ben drops his face in his hands, groaning. “no, Klaus. please. do not. don’t.”

“Ben has a crush.”

“I said do not,” he hisses, glaring at his brother through his fingers, trying in vain to hide his red cheeks.

“oh, come on,” Klaus tuts. “have a little faith in me.”

“if you try anything. if you do anything. I will end you. you won’t even see me coming.”

“I love you too, Ben.” he snatches a box of tic tacs, and Ben shakes his head, shuffling a few steps forward in the line.

“good afternoon, sir,” you say, and Ben immediately loses all chill he might have had walking into the store. 

he nods. “hi.” that’s so lame. he should say something else, shouldn’t he? but you’ve already reached for the bag of grapes on the conveyor belt, and Ben internally curses – he should have grabbed some other stuff as well, just so he could have a little bit longer to try and figure out just what to say to you – 

“hm.” you frown. “that’s strange. it doesn’t seem to be picking up the – uh.” you glance down at the box of tic tacs in your hand. “I’ll just switch this out for you –” 

but as soon as you look up, sending a nervous (but fucking adorable) smile his way, Klaus jumps up, leaning around the belt and snatching the box from your hands. “no, no, none of that! here, I’ll read the number out for you.” 

Ben looks at his brother, jaw slack. “what are you –”

but Klaus, unstoppable force, starts rattling off the number, and you scramble to punch it in. after the first few numbers, though, Ben narrows his eyes, and then he looks at the box in Klaus’ hands – the box he isn’t even looking at, at this point, and snatches it from his hands. his face is probably the shade of a tomato.

“dude.” he whacks him on the back of the head. “what the fuck do you think you’re – why are you giving my number –” he smiles at you, though it feels forced and slightly manic, and confusion is rapidly mounting in your expression. “I’m so sorry for my idiot brother. I’ll just grab a new one of these.” you smile back at him, a little nervously.

“Klaus. Klaus. why,” he groans, running a hand down his face, trying in vain to hide the redness of his cheeks and ears. 

“I’m scoring you a date. let me handle this.” 

“absolutely not. you say another word and I’ll kill you in your sleep.” he glares, picking up another tic tac box at random and plopping it on the conveyor belt.

you’re looking at him, your own cheeks bearing a faint tinge of pink, nibbling on your bottom lip as you scan the box. then, to his surprise, scribble something on the surface of it. hands it back to him. “that’ll be four ninety-five.”

Ben pays, then goes to pick up the box – Klaus has already made off with the bag of grapes – and freezes. in black permanent marker, you’ve written what can only be a phone number – and a name.

you grin again, rubbing the side of your nose. “I’m – uh – off all weekend. so, you know. if you have time, or anything.”

“oh.” Ben’s eyes are still wide. every time he thinks he can’t possibly get any redder… “um, cool. yeah. I am also free all weekend. uh. I will. text you?”

you clasp your hands together. “I look forward to it.”

“okay. um, me too.”

“okay.”

“yeah.” 

he smiles, sticks the tic tac box in his pocket. “alright.”

as he starts to turn around, you call after him, “what’s your name?”

fucking moron. “it’s, uh, Ben.”

you chuckle. “okay. Ben. I’ll see you around.”

“yeah.” he gives an awkward wave, regretting the motion almost immediately. you grin, wave back. Ben closes his eyes and smacks himself in the face as soon as he knows he’s out of sight.

Klaus laughs. “there we go. fuckin’ Casanova.”

“I hope you choke on a grape.” 

Klaus’ giggles follow them all the way home.

[prayerith]

it’s beginning to look a lot like checkout

summary: Joey is trying to survive working as a cashier during the holiday season. When a cute customer manages to turn around his entire day, he doesn't think he'll ever see the guy again. But when he keeps turning up, will Joey manage to form a relationship with him?

howdy! yes, i’m posting a multi-chapter fic for once. you can also read it on ao3 here <3 hope y’all enjoy!

Not for the first time today, Joey eyed the speaker embedded in the ceiling above his cash register and wondered how difficult it would be to smash it from the ground. Sure, it was a few feet up, but if he threw something hard enough at it, he could probably damage it, right? The stapler at his register wasn’t too heavy, but it was solid enough that it might fritz it out. Then again, he would almost certainly be fired, but he would take that if it meant that the speaker was at least non-functional. Anything to stop being forced to listen to that damn Christmas music.

Normally, he couldn’t really hear the music pumped through the hardware store at which he was (regrettably) employed, being too quiet to hear over the general din of a retail environment. The only exceptions were with songs he knew, which he was able to pick out easier, or when there was hardly anyone in the store making noise to drown out the speakers overhead. However, that all changed when Thanksgiving ended. Once that happened, corporate switched their generally palatable 70’s playlist to Christmas music, and Joey’s annual nightmare began.

That’s not to say he didn’t like Christmas; he wasn’t religious, so he didn’t really celebrate it except in the most bare-bones sense of getting his dad and sister a present on the day, but he thought the holiday season in general was fine. It was listening to the same damn songs for hours on end that was driving him up the wall. While he might hear a repeat or two on the standard playlist if he had a long shift, when Christmas rolled around, it was very possible to hear the same song three different times in only a few hours. If Joey ever met the person that designed this playlist and told their store to play it, he would give them a piece of his mind—and a piece of his fist besides.

Damn brain, he thought, resting his chin on his elbows, which were crossed on the counter. Can’t pay attention to somebody when they’re talking to me, but I can’t stop paying attention to Christmas music. Figures.

Furtively, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the time: 3:15 pm. Only forty-five minutes until he got to clock out, but he knew this would be the longest part of his shift. It was after lunch but before most people got off work, meaning that business had slowed to a crawl. Normally, he was grateful for any downtime at work, especially later in his shift, but as “Silver Bells” started up for the fourth time that day, Joey was actively wishing someone would come to his register, just so he would be able to tune out the music.

The irritation from the music just added to everything else miserable about working in retail; Joey’s knees were killing him from having to stand all day on a concrete floor, and he was in that half-bored, half-stressed state that came with a slow moment at the register. He wanted to zone out, think about what he would make for dinner or come up with something fun to do with Serenity over her school break, but he couldn’t risk getting interrupted by a customer. So, he was stuck, unable to sit and rest his knees and forced to pay attention to his surroundings. Which, unfortunately, included the music.

The tell-tale beeping of a register being activated was a welcome distraction, and he picked his chin off his elbows to look in the direction of the noise. It wasn’t especially eventful; just his coworker, Ryou, being forced into scanning some lady’s entire basket, despite the fact that she was at a clearly labeled self-checkout register. Joey felt bad for him; Ryou was a sweet guy, which meant that he often got roped into doing way more than he should. He did, however, have more than a passing interest in the occult, which he weaponized against customers that pissed him off, so he was helpful to have around when dealing with someone annoying. He was a real wild card; Joey appreciated that about him.

“Hello? Can I check out here?”

God damn it.

“Yeah, sure thing!” Joey said, putting on his best Customer Service Voice. He whipped his head back around, coming face-to-face with the customer who had managed to sneak up on him, despite his earlier promises to not zone out. Immediately, however, Joey forgot everything about work, his mind going blank except for one thought: this guy was cute.

At first, Joey had made eye contact with his hair, rather than his face, given that the customer was pretty short and his hair was pretty tall. After a stray thought as to how much gel someone had to use to get it to stay that way, his eyes dropped to his actual face; that was when his brain had really started to short-circuit. How was he supposed to focus on making this guy pay for his stuff when he had such clear, violet eyes, such a friendly smile? Joey was only human, after all. The glimpse of a leather choker underneath the scarf the customer wore only made things worse.

“Is everything alright?” Fuck, the customer must have asked him a question. Not only that, but all his stuff was on the counter, and he was looking at Joey with an expectant, if confused, expression.

“Uh, yeah, just zoned out for a second.” It wasn’t a lie; he had zoned out, but he wasn’t going to tell the customer why. He grabbed the customer’s first item—a string of white Christmas lights—and scanned it as quick as he could, hoping to make up for lost time. “Did you, uh, find everything okay?”

“Yes, I did, thanks,” the customer responded, sounding just as friendly as he did when he first asked to check out. “I’m glad you still had some white lights! I really needed them, and they were sold out at the first two stores I checked.”

“Oh yeah? I’m glad we could provide, then.” Joey continued scanning his items, noting that they were all Christmas decorations. He found it odd that the only lights the customer wanted to buy were white and blue, but maybe he was going for an unconventional Christmas tree design. Joey wasn’t here to judge people’s purchases, only make sure they happen. “Alright, your total is $32.64, cash or card?”

The customer held up a debit card in response, and Joey indicated the card reader in front of him. He finished paying in relative silence, leaving Joey to almost-zone-out at least a dozen more times, getting stuck on different aspects of the customer’s appearance. How much work is it for him to dye his hair three different colors? His nose scrunches up when he concentrates, that’s cute. Would it be too weird to ask for his number?

Too quickly, however, the card reader beeped, prompting the customer to remove his card. “Thanks so much!” he said, with a smile that was too charming for Joey’s poor, flustered heart to take.

“No problem,” he managed to say, despite being sure that he was going to ascend out of his body at any moment. He grabbed the customer’s receipt from the printer and handed to its owner; if he held it in a way to where he ensured that their fingers didn’t brush, well, that was self-preservation. “Thanks, and have a nice day.”

“Thanks, uh, Joey,” the customer said, peering at his name tag, “and happy holidays!” He waved goodbye with the hand not holding his bags, still with that blinding smile on his face, and turned to leave. Joey propped his chin back on his hand and watched him walk to the exit door, smiling at the way he pulled his scarf up over his nose before facing the cold.

“Fall in love with a customer, Joey?”

Joey yelled, losing his balance and nearly smashing his chin onto the counter, before he caught himself and spun around to face the person who had just spoken. “Ryou, what the fuck? You can’t just sneak up on me like that, you’re gonna get me killed.”

Ryou giggled, his elbows on the low wall that separated self-checkout from Joey’s register. There wasn’t a customer in sight—which meant that Joey was now fair game for ridicule. “Not my fault you were distracted. He’s cute though, did you get his number?”

“No, I don’t even know his name,” Joey grumbled. That made him remember that the customer had said his name, though, which made his face heat up. Didn’t think my name could sound that nice. He peeled open a new plastic bag, just for the sake of having something to do that meant he didn’t have to look Ryou in the eyes. “Besides, I can’t just ask a customer for his number! What if he thinks I’m weird, and writes me up, and gets me fired?”

“You have a point.” Ryou hummed, tapping his finger on his chin. “But what if he thought you were also cute?”

“It’s not like I’ll ever find out.” Joey sighed, putting his head in his hands. “He said he went to other stores for white lights before he found them here, which means he probably doesn’t live around here, which means I’ll probably never see him again. Better to just forget about it.”

Ryou made a sympathetic sound, and Joey didn’t have to see his face to know he was looking at him with pity. “I suppose,” he said slowly. “Still, you seemed happy when you were talking to him. You never smile like that when you’re working, it was a nice change.”

Joey just sighed again, before the clearing of a stranger’s throat made him look up to realize that someone was ready to check out—right as the strains of “Blue Christmas” reached his ears from the damned speaker above him. Right, he had work to do, and on-the-nose Christmas music to endure. He plastered on his Work Smile, ready to greet his customer with all the fake friendliness a retail employee could muster.

Ryou was right; while talking to that cute customer, he had been genuinely happy. Unfortunately, it made his return to dismal reality all the sadder.

[hazzasgayvodka]

i’m dating a new boy and totally going to write a series about him

if there’s one thing you all know about me, it’s that I take inspiration for my series from my own love life (which has been a pretty barren desert until recently). However there is now a boy that is hellbent on giving me “romance novel inspiration” so I hope you all are ready for a lot of content to come. Going forward I guess we will call him N. Here’s a sneak peak of something I’m working on a little 

I roll my eyes as the lady in front of me in line takes out yet another handful of coupons from her purse at the checkout counter. The cashier looks almost as annoyed as I am, but still sporting a smile despite the absolute exasperation rampant in her eyes. She takes the handful of coupons and starts scanning them begrudgingly as the woman digs around in her purse for anymore and I hardly even notice my foot tapping as my eyes instinctively roll once again. I just came to get toilet roll, ice cream, and a bottle of prosecco and the universe decides today is the day coupon Karen ends up at the checkout line five minutes before I do.

“I like your hair.” A voice speaks up behind me.

I know they must be talking to me, I don’t believe any other boring college blonde in this line warrants a compliment like that but the bright purple curls I sport tend to elicit quite the reaction from bystanders, especially the uninteresting conservatives of Publix.

“How do you uh, get it that color?”

I finally turn my head over my shoulder to face the voice, a tall guy with tousled brown hair and quite the shit eating grin on his face. He’s obviously very pleased with himself finally getting me to turn around but I can’t be bothered to entertain this excited puppy of a man with more than a word.

“Dye.”

I’ve barely even gotten the word out of my mouth before I turn back to face the cashier with an uninterested eyeroll. He scoffs behind me, clearly not giving up that easily.

“Wow,” He chuckles, “At least you’re straightforward.”

I turn back around without thinking to face him once again, “Hair dye, idiot.”

“Oh, well I could have guessed that much.”

I turn away from him again just as coupon lady finally pushes her rattling cart towards the exit doors and the cashier gestures for me to come up to the checkout. I drop my basket on the conveyor belt with a thud and she rings it up quickly, sensing my impatience and clearly wanting to get me the hell out of here as quickly as she can. I pay and grab my bags to head for the door and just before I’m home free the voice is suddenly behind me yet again.

“So, are you really not going to tell me?” He asks, catching up to me outside, “It’s going to keep me up tonight, I’m waiting with bated breath over here.”

“Tell you what exactly?” I huff, finally turning to face him.

“How you get your hair that color, of course.”

I roll my eyes, surely, he’s not keeping this bit up for the sake of hitting on me in the fucking supermarket, “Do you want something from me?”

He chuckles a bit, and I’m glad to see my utter frustration is amusing to him, “I mean,” He starts, rubbing the back of his neck, “Maybe your name would be cool.”

“No thanks.”

“Well, I’m Harry-“

I turn and walk away before he’s barely got the sentence out of his mouth. What was he even in line to buy? He wasn’t carrying any bags.

Mental note: always wear headphones to the grocery store.